


Always In My Heart

by TellMeThisIsNotLove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Always in my heart tweet, Angst, Bearding, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Canon Compliant, Did I say angst?, Happy Ending, I don't see any of them cheat on the other, Idiots in Love, M/M, No cheating, Smut, Teasing, but if I change that it kills the entire plot, closeting, four promo, only 1 day doesn't match, so there are timestamps, that's important, tried to make it as real as it could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:11:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeThisIsNotLove/pseuds/TellMeThisIsNotLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: Someone write an angsty fic where that tweet hits 2nd most retweeted but they aren’t together anymore so it’s like PAIN for the both of them and then Harry calls Louis (drunk or something) like “did you mean it?” And Louis is confused and Harry says “did you really mean I’m always in your heart?” And Harry’s crying Louis is quiet for a couple seconds but it feels like hours and finally he whispers “of course I did, Haz”</p><p>Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always In My Heart

**_I would like to thank[Sam ](http://asteriaseren2010.tumblr.com/)and [Jess ](http://someonethatsfunny.tumblr.com/)for being the basic pillars of this fic, without them I would’ve never had the courage to actually post my ramblings. They are amazing and so helpful, gave me boost when I needed, called me out on stupid ideas when the time came, game me amazing plot ideas and I’m so very thankful. This baby yours just as much as mine! _ **

**_***************************************************************************************_ **

_Author’s notes:_

_When I’ve seen the prompt for the first time, it hit me instantly and felt so powerful that about a day passed and I was already plotting my first fan fiction. Let me tell you, it was insanely difficult to break up these two, although I absolutely believe it had never happened, I tried to come up with a believable scenario of how it would have happened. And no, it was not cheating, it was not falling out of love. It was life._

_First fic - be nice. :) English is my second language only. :)_

 

 

 

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**September 6th**  

Louis was in a hurry when he entered their home after his long footie training. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his keys and bag on the dresser and rushed into the living room. Maybe Harry called him on the landline because he knew he was training. He went to check the answering machine. Zero messages, zero missed calls. He pulled the cable out and plugged it in again, waiting for the phone to reboot itself. The green zero just looked back at him mockingly. He was becoming more and more anxious because he really wanted to talk to Harry and had been trying to reach him for hours with no luck. They hadn’t had a chance to meet up while he was home and he missed him.

He tried calling him again but it went straight to voicemail. He felt helpless. He knew that Harry needed him, but how could he be of any help if he had his phone turned off? All he wanted to do was to fly to L.A., bundle him up in the fluffiest blanket, pull him into his lap, hug and caress him until he’d cried his heart out.

The hours had passed and the number of attempts to reach Harry had increased along with them. He decided to take a shower; showers always helped clear his head and calm him down. Eventually, he took his phone into the bathroom, had a shower, and then quickly dried himself off. Anticipation turned into disappointment when he grabbed his phone with his damp hands and saw that he still had no call from Harry.

Finally, sometime after 10PM which seemed like an eternity to him, his phone started ringing and he saw his name flash up on the screen. He slumped down on the nearest chair as relief took over his body, let out a huge breath and accepted the call.

“God I‘m so happy you called. I didn’t know when was a good time to call you. Babe I’m _so_ sorry.” - He quickly breathed into the phone and was met with a lot of noise. Music. People talking like a constant buzz. Harry was probably calling him from a bar.

“You held her hand.” Harry’s voice sounded like death personified.

The music blaring from the background was so loud that Louis was sure he’d heard him wrong.

“Wha... baby you know I didn’t,” he stammered in disbelief.

“Was that really necessary?” _OK, definitely not the music then_.

“We got papped, you know I wouldn't. Come on babe."

“You held her hand instead of mine.” Harry sounded like he wasn’t even paying attention to him. And dammit, he had to remind himself to be patient with Harry because he was hurt and he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“It was a pap walk only. You know damn well that nothing happened.” - Louis couldn't help it, his bitterness was evident.

Harry's reply didn't come immediately, Louis could hear the music fade away, so he must have gone outside to hear him better. “I don’t know what to think Lou, I just lost my grandma.” Harry’s voice came out so lifeless. “I’ve lost my grandma who I hadn’t visited in two months and now I’ll never see her again.”

“I know baby, I know and I’m so fucking sorry. I wanted to be there with you. I wanna be there now but you know I can’t.”

“Why the fuck can she have you? I haven't seen you, I've been a sobbing mess for two days.” Harry’s voice was so empty. Louis was cursing the whole fucking universe; if only he could’ve been there with Harry this whole conversation wouldn’t be happening right now. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face in frustration.

“Why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? I said I’m sorry.”

“I was there at your grandma’s funeral, I put everything aside, cancelled everything just so I was able to be with you.” the words struck Louis as if they were a dagger to his heart.

“You didn’t. You didn’t just say that now.” He struggled to pull more air into his lungs.

“What?!” Harry’s voice dripped with so much sarcasm, it made Louis dread the outcome of this phone call. “I was there Louis. I was there with you because I knew how important it was for you.” _Ok, fuck being calm_.

“What the hell Hazza? Do you think I fucking enjoyed being with her? Do you honestly think I wanted to miss your grandma’s funeral to be with somebody who means absolutely nothing to me?”

Harry didn’t respond to Louis’ outburst at all. The silence was deafening. This couldn’t be real, it wasn’t happening. He wanted nothing but to console his boy and help him through his mourning but instead of his Harry, he was faced with a stranger with a dead voice. Harry was not in a good place now, but that didn’t mean he could say such hurtful things. “ _I was there Louis. I was there with you because I knew how important it was to you."_ Was Harry implying that he wasn’t as important to him as Louis was to him?

The more the silence grew, the more he felt like like he was  living in an episode of  the Twilight Zone. Time passed and the only thing Louis could hear from the other end of the line was the sound of muffled music. As he replayed Harry’s words, Louis’ hurt soon turned into irritation. He was close to losing it.

“For fuck’s sake Harry, I loved her like my own nan. How can you even think, let alone say such bullshit?” Louis rubbed his nose. “Haz.” He tried to reassure Harry with a cracking voice.

“What?” Harry snapped and Louis started to think that maybe they should just hang up since they were both too worked up to talk like proper adults.

“Three more days baby, okay? I’ll fly to you in three days, and we can be together then.” Louis’ pleading voice tried again to console him, force him to see reason.

“I don’t care about three days, I want you now, I wanted you yesterday and I wanted you the day before when they put my grandma’s coffin in the ground. Everyone was there, Louis, EVERYONE! The whole fucking neighborhood, even people who didn’t know her, but I don’t fucking care about them. I wanted you and you weren’t there!”

“You’re hurt, baby, I get it. But you can't say things like this, okay? You know that I had to fly to London to meet with fucking management. Please, you know I--”

“No, I don’t know. You shou---”

“Stop, Harry. Just stop. Stop right there. I know what you want to bloody say, but please just stop. You're too upset and you’re going to regret if you say anything else, so just please, please, baby stop this. Stop torturing us.”

Silence followed and all Louis could hear was Harry’s heavy breathing. He had to be the adult here and not let Harry’s words cloud his judgment. He needed to remind himself, that Harry was hurt and even if Louis felt like his own heart had been carved out of his chest with the sharpest of knives, Harry’s accusatory words were just his way of letting out his frustration and anger. How far could a person in mourning go and how much should they be allowed?

His throat felt scratchy when he finally spoke again. “You know that I wanted to be there, right?” He whispered in such a low voice that he could hardly even recognize himself.

“I don’t know Louis. Did you?”

“Yes Harry. Bloody hell. Of course I wanted to be with you, hold your hand and be with you because that’s what we do, we’re there for each other.  And really, I know that you’re sad but I don’t deserve this right now. You know that I wanted to be there for you! I wanted to be there and you bloody well know that.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like that, Lou! All that I see is that my mum and Gems put everything aside to be with me, and you didn’t.”

Louis started pacing wildly around the room, unable to sit tight; hands raking furiously through his hair, as he thought about not only Harry’s words, but also his own.

“And you’re saying I didn’t?” Louis' voice came out cold.

“Who’s in England right now, while I’m in bloody L.A.?”

Louis wanted to hit something. “Stop with the cheeky tone Harry. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Let me be the judge of what suits me.”

“I’m not listening to this bullshit anymore Haz, you’re drunk and upset. I’m hanging up. Call me when you’re sober. “ Then, with a simple click Louis ended the call.

Louis felt so angry, he wanted to hit something, to scream at someone. A small voice inside tried to calm him down saying that it was okay for Harry to accuse him of what he did because he was upset. He knew things hadn’t been the best lately, but Louis believed that Harry understood their situation. Now that he thought about it, when he’d broken the news about management demanding him to be in London, Harry had reacted very neutrally, almost frighteningly calm. Then, somehow tension took over their usual happy banter and it all came crashing down on a very unsuspecting Louis. It was unfortunate that he hadn’t seen Harry since their last concert, but above all he would never forgive himself for not being able to go to the funeral and be there in person instead of in spirit. Thinking about it now made him so angry, that he punched the wall with his fist. Searing pain shot through his knuckles and the only upside was that the throbbing numbed his frustration immediately.

Harry wouldn’t even listen to reason, regardless that he knew that Louis had to be in London to meet management to discuss Niall’s birthday party and the Maestrio game. His mum had driven with him and she was willing to take over some stunting, which helped a lot.

What hadn’t helped though, was the fact that the meeting was the day Harry’s grandma's funeral was held.

He had been pleading with Management for hours to figure out a way to attend, he promised them more stunts, he promised them the fucking stars, but they refused to listen. For a moment he honestly thought he had a chance of convincing them, but then they acted in the same fucking arrogant way as they had during the Rovers negotiations. Because they could. Bunch of assholes.

Louis had never felt so defeated as he did when he realized that Modest had enough power over him to fuck up his Rovers deal but, somehow this was even worse. They actually prevented  him from being with his boy on one of his most important days, and for this he would never forgive them.

They were both in this mess together so Louis didn’t take Harry’s reaction well at all. Both of them were affected by the closet, the stunts and the bearding were never easy. How could anything about this possibly be easy?

Harry was basically a kid when he was given a contract to sign, stunts so skillfully written into it, there was literally no escaping them. At least he was eighteen then, practically an adult, but that didn’t mean he’d been prepared for this to be their life for the next four years. They’d figured just a few articles, some handholding, some HQ’s taken by the paparazzi would be enough for the rumors about their sexuality to die down.

That wasn’t the case though. He’d never thought that he would have found himself in a situation when he couldn’t love his partner openly. God, they had been so naive.

He remembered when they’d been invited into a meeting, how those big words were thrown at them like: fame, your fans, _think about the other members of the band.. if you don’t hide it you could be holding each other’s career’s back... It’s not about your sexuality... it’s about the business... Don’t you want a career in music?... How do you think fans would react if they knew that they loved a band with a gay couple?... Their parents would do anything and everything to stop them, no albums or concert tickets would be bought... We’re not against it, believe us, we don’t have any issue with your relationship... in fact we think it’s great, but we're here to make you successful... a chance to break into the American market... we believe in you... you can be together behind closed doors, but it has to be hidden... Under no circumstances, in no interviews nor at any event can you hint that you’re anything more than bandmates... risking your own, each other’s and your bandmates’ careers... You’ll stop doing that thing with your hand.. yes that.. no more braces and flamboyant clothing.. you’ll get media training.. learn how to answer questions… control your body language…_

Then, in the blink of an eye, they were given a plan of how Louis had to move out of their shared apartment. They had to say they were just friends. _Bromance_. He fucking hated that word.

On top of all of that, a girl with brown hair was introduced to them. He would never be able to forget how tightly Harry kept holding his hand under the table and how he’d grabbed his thigh the more their Management talked about the necessity of stunts. It had been only words so far, but then this girl called Eleanor appeared and everything got a lot more real. One week later Harry was in a pretend-relationship with Caroline and Louis had been sent out on fake dates with Eleanor.

It’s not like they didn’t enjoy fame, that would be a bloody lie, of course they did. They’d had the best time of their lives because they’d been so successful. Their single ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ had immediately turned into a #1 hit, breaking all records in history.

When the stunts had begun, they’d even joked about them and played around, giving open-mouthed kisses to each other behind closed doors only minutes before Louis stepped out with Eleanor. Harry had marked him in every way possible and they had been so proud of themselves, sharing smug grins. They were invincible, at least that was what they thought. It wasn’t like they didn’t know what they were supposed to do; he _knew_ he was going to have to fake both interest and attraction to her, hold her hand, kiss her on occasion. But as time went on, it got more and more emotionally draining.

They had started dreading management meetings where more new dates would be thrown in signaling the upcoming stunts. They reached a point when they both flinched at a signal of a text message or a call.

The timing was never good; was there ever good time for a stunt, really? Sometimes they ‘d just met up after being apart for days, were just about to sit down and have lunch, and then the call would come and Harry would be required to go on a pap walk. They had held onto each other like lifelines, they really had and their love had grown even stronger.

Sadly, they were only human and they got tired, the frustration of not being able to touch each other publicly intensifying whenever they were separated by continents. That beautiful dream of theirs soon turned into a nightmare. The ‘price of fame’ they say.

Before he’d had a chance to blink, his boy had been turned into the biggest lothario in the world, a sexual icon for all the girls, all the ladies. Fans touched him, objectified him, insulted him, made sexual offers and he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t push their hands away and say ‘no, Harry isn’t like that, if only you knew’… He wanted to claim what was his and the frustration killed him that he couldn’t defend his boy’s honor. He constantly had to remind himself that Harry was just his bandmate, no one could know the truth.

To be honest, he’d never thought it would go on this long. That they would still be wishing for their freedom in Sept 2014. They’d both thought that as soon as the rumors died down they would’ve had a chance to re-negotiate.

Sadly, that hadn’t happened and they were never offered a way out.

Their biggest fight was like the perfect storm, everything conspiring against them and Louis couldn’t do anything to prevent it. He was only told at the very last minute that he had to kiss Eleanor at the Olympic Games. Last minute- meaning that he couldn’t give Harry a heads-up. He had tried to call but he was at Nick's party and didn't hear his phone ringing. He wanted to tell him that they were told to _smile and play the happy couple, then the kiss cam would focus on you, don’t fuck it up_. He’d wanted to say that it would only be acting and that he’d tried his best to fight against it but in the end he couldn’t escape it; he did sign a contract, after all.

Harry was devastated when he’d came home, he’d seen it on twitter and was fuming over why he’d been notified by social media rather than by his own boyfriend. They’d started arguing, shouting hurtful accusations that they’d never, ever said to each other before and then, all of the sudden Harry had moved past him, grabbed his keys, and slammed the door shut. Louis just stared at the closed door, his heart beating in his chest, fatigue taking over his emotions. His legs gave out, body collapsing to the floor, he’d cried and cried until he was physically and emotionally drained. He didn’t bother moving from the hardwood floor, simply couldn’t make his body work. The only thought in his head was “I betrayed Harry”. He felt absolutely devastated. He hadn’t dared to call Harry for hours, knowing that the younger boy needed time to vent and calm himself down. He would come back, he said to himself, he always came back.

When Harry turned the keys in the door at three AM, he saw Louis sleeping on the carpet near the front door, his small frame curled into itself holding onto that silly nautical pillow one of the fans had given them; it was Harry’s favorite. In that moment, it hit him hard that he’d treated Louis like crap, he’d accused him of so many awful things and yet he was still there, in their home, holding onto Harry’s favorite pillow like a lifeline. Harry couldn’t keep silent anymore, the pain, the stress and the guilt overwhelming him and a sob escaped from his lips. Louis woke up at the familiar sniffling sound. He opened his eyes, and all he saw was his boy, trembling and sobbing, his frame shaking. In that moment he swore he would never forget how defeated Harry looked. He’d never taken to Eleanor’s presence easily, hell, Harry tensed at the mere mention of her name.

“I’m sorry b-babe. I’m s-so sorry.” - Harry pleaded, his voice cracking.  He’d dropped to his knees and drew Louis into a hug, tight enough to bruise.

“It’s okay Haz”.

“I love you”.

“I know.”

“I’m shit at showing it to you, though”.

Louis didn’t say anything, just kissed him reassuringly.

Little had he known back then that he would have to watch his boy kiss Taylor on New Years’ Eve in 2013. Only then could he understand why Harry had reacted to the Olympic kiss the way that he had. Seeing Harry and Taylor kissing, surrounded by a cheering crowd was like having an out of body experience. At least he’d known it would happen, was prepared to see Harry and Taylor holding hands, cuddling and kissing at midnight on NYE. He’d had leverage, nothing like Harry with the Olympic Games kiss. It may have been something he was prepared for, but he could never have been prepared enough. Knowing it in advance or not, he still felt like his heart had been ripped out, stomped to pieces and burnt to ashes.

They had learned from their mistakes and always tried to talk their hearts out on the harder days. Clearly, understanding that the situation took a toll on both of them and blaming each other was nor fair nor healthy for their relationship. They’d even sworn to each other they wouldn’t let stunts stand between them.

He was pacing the room and was contemplating calling Harry back against his better judgement, but he decided it was wiser to leave him be and let him sober up. They would talk in the morning and everything would be okay. He wasn’t sure if that was a bloody lie or the truth.

He went to the kitchen, placed his phone on the counter and put on some water to boil. Once the water boiled, he made himself a cuppa and sat down to look at the local newspaper. Just as he started reading it, he was pulled out of his daze by the noise his buzzing phone made on the kitchen counter. It was Harry.

“Why aren’t you with me now, Louis?” Harry’s accusing tone made him question his ability to hear. Why was Harry so damn stubborn and incapable of understanding that he wanted to be there with him so fucking much but couldn’t because he was obligated to stay in England?

Louis shook his head in disbelief. “I signed a fucking contract and besides that I’m not gonna leave Rio here in shit!”

“I don’t care Louis!” bellowed Harry and wow, they’d reached a low here.

Louis was hardly able to get the words out through his gritted teeth. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t care?”

“Everything! _Anything!_ I don’t care about anything!"

“Well it’s too late for that Harry, because we're in this together and you don’t get to fucking say that you don’t care.”

“I’m so tired of this shit Lou.”

A twisted smile appeared on Louis’ face. “Oh and you think I’m not? You think I'm happy arguing over something that we swore we’d never let stand between us and yet still, here we are fighting about it just the same? Do you think I enjoy this? I’m doing this all for you, for us, because I love you for god’s sake!”

“So you’re saying you missed my only grandma’s funeral because you love me?”

Louis’ stomach dropped. “That’s fucking unfair Harry and you know it.”

“Then come here and be with me. Take the first plane so you can be with me. I need you.”

“I’ll fly out to L.A. in three days. I can’t do it earlier, I have the charity match, I can't just leave everything behind, _I can’t fucking leave_.” - he stopped for a second and took a deep breath, “I can't, don’t you understand? I want to so much baby, but I can’t!” He was grabbing fistfuls of hair at the sides of his head from desperation.

Harry was silent. It felt like the quiet before the storm. Then he took a few small breaths and snapped. “You know what? Then stay. Stay the fuck there.”

“You don’t know--” but all Louis heard was a beeping sound – “what you’re talking about.” Harry had hung up on him.

He’d actually hung up on him while he was still speaking.

Louis couldn’t believe it.

He tossed his phone on the bed and started pacing fervently, pulling at his hair in frustration. He could absolutely not believe what the fuck had just happened. They were never like this, not ever. Harry had never told him to fuck off, not like this. Louis was so pissed off at Harry that he was seeing red.

He went to bed without bothering to brush his teeth, tossed and turned for a while, trying to find a good position to sleep in. An hour passed and still, he was awake, replaying everything that Harry had said to him. After a while, his mind just gave up; it couldn’t work anymore, he felt emotionally drained and fell asleep with no intention of ever waking up.

 

 **September 7th**  

He woke up to his alarm at the ass-crack of dawn, and before he started cursing, he reminded himself that today was the Maestrio game. He had to get up and take a shower because he planned on doing some training in the garden. He’d always felt very self-conscious about football, that was his world, his place where he could be himself and he wanted to make sure he was in good shape for it. Touring didn’t make his preparation for the game easy, but he had tried to play with the lads as much as he could.

Normally, he had to do six weeks of intense training to be able to keep up with the other guys on the pitch, but a charity match with amateurs was a different story, he could get away with three weeks of training instead. Luckily Liam, Niall and.. and Harry.. had all been up for some sports, happily kicking the ball around on their free days.

Maybe football would be a good distraction, although he didn’t feel much like attending the match after what had happened with Harry to be honest.

He was changing into comfy trackies after rinsing himself off and went to put his phone in his pocket when he saw it blinking with messages and a voicemail. They were all from Harry.

  ** _10:04 PM:_ ** _Did you go to sleep already?_

 **_10:05 PM_ ** _: Can we talk?_

 **_10:19 PM_ ** _: Talk to me. Please._

 ** _12:43 AM_ ** voicemail _: “Hey... It’s me… I know you have the game today as it’s like.. past midnight... so like... please call me before the match. I’m so sorry baby.”_

  ** _1:30 AM_** _: I’m home now. I’ll have the phone with me._

 **_2:14 AM_ ** _: The bed is empty._

 ** _4:53 AM_ ** _: OK I guess you’re either still asleep or ignoring me._

 **_6:03 AM_ ** _: I know you’re up. Please talk to me._

 **_6:18 AM:_ ** _Lou, please.  
_  

The last one had come only thirteen minutes ago. He couldn’t deal with this now. He had to get ready to go with his family and they were taking Eleanor with them as well.

He needed to be at the stadium just in time to have the last warm up. He couldn’t allow for his mind to be filled with _Harry Harry Harry_. He wasn’t going to let Harry take this wonderful day from him.

At least he’d planned for it to be wonderful but it turned out to be not so much after all. He’d had to suffer Eleanor all morning. Management had been very insistent on having her travel with his family to the stadium. After some conspiring with Lottie, he’d managed to get into a separate car from them, since they were already filling up the van, so at least there was that.

Her presence bothered him a lot and no matter how he tried to sculpt his face, he couldn’t begin to look remotely happy as cameras from both the press and fans were flashing while he was leaving the car. They arrived late, so meeting the fans was an impossibility. Another thing to add to the list of reasons why fans disliked Louis Tomlinson. _Wonderful_.

To make matters worse, as soon he walked out to the pitch, the crowd erupted with chants of BLUE BALLS and really, his self esteem was already low after spending what may only be a few short days away from Harry but in actuality felt like a lifetime to him. He checked his phone after changing into sweats. 

 **4:13 PM** _: you look so damn good in the headband._

 **5:32 PM** : _I can’t believe I’m on tumblr, but I wanted to see you. They say the game has just ended, please after you can get out of the reporters’ hands and you have a minute, please call me. I miss you and I need to talk to you._

 **6:29 PM** _: Please baby._  

Now he wanted to talk? Really?! Where was his willingness to talk when he had so easily crushed his heart the day before? Where was his apology when he’d accused him of not loving Nan S, or even not caring about Harry? Fuck that, he wasn’t going to give him this. He’d said such awful things to Louis, and every single thing had felt like a dagger to his heart.

How could Harry possibly expect him to respond?

Why had Harry chosen now to want to talk? It had been a long hard day and added emotional pressure was the last thing he needed. He should be able to respect the fact that he would be physically drained from the match and his heart couldn’t take more after their fight. He’d had to spend the day with someone whom he cared next to nothing about, once again, all for their relationship. _Fucking ridiculous_. No, he was not going to reply to Harry.

Instead, he decided to spend the evening with his family and they were more than welcoming. They were so happy to see him. It was a big price he’d had to pay, one of the biggest; he’d had to be away only watching from afar how all of his sisters and now brother were growing up. Everytime he visited them, they had grown taller than last time. It was so lovely to have Lottie assisting while on tour, and he’d gotten to know her so much better, on a deeper level than just brother-sister teasing. Now, Lottie shared her fears and secrets with him and while that was pretty amazing, he was still missing his mum and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they had been a great distraction and he’d especially enjoyed spending quality time with Doris and Ernest. They were such great kids.

His mum and Dan were sitting on the couch, admiring his skills with the kids and, well, growing up with that many siblings definitely helped you understand how to treat kids. Fizz, Lots, and the twins sat in a circle, there was hardly any unused space in the big living room. He missed their laughter, their easy banter, how there was a healthy teasing between them but yet they still always had each other's backs.

As the evening turned into night he drove back to their home, went to sleep surprisingly early and if he hadn’t have turned off his phone, he would’ve seen Harry’s other message too.

 **8:14 PM** _:_ _I miss you so bloody much. I fucked up. I'm so sorry._

Obviously he was too naive to think sleep would just come easily.

_Lou please, we can’t go on without talking. We’ve never been that couple. Please call me, please?”_

Louis played the voicemail back, almost erasing it but decided not to at the second he heard Harry’s pleading raspy voice.

 

**September 8th**

“ _Please baby this is killing me. It’s been three days now. I - just need to know you’re okay.. we’re okay. I don’t know what’s in your mind, you’re not talking to me, you’re not replying to my texts, or returning my calls. Please call me._ ”

His thumb hovered over the button to delete Harry’s latest message.

“ _Just wanted to call you because Jeff wants to go out and... er we're like.. Gonna go to a bar and it might be a bit loud but don’t worry I will have my phone with me and.. Yeah. He told me to leave the house because.. I’m like.. I haven’t left it in 3 days. Since.. we… like.. talked.” after a long silence Harry breathed “I really am sorry baby. Please call me._ ”

But he couldn’t do it. He was so fucking weak.

 

**September 9th**

“ _It’s me.. again.. I know I promised I wouldn’t call you until at least you texted me back but you didn’t leave me with many options. Please talk to me, Lou. I’m going crazy and I just need to hear your voice. Please Lou_ ”

  _“So erm.. you arrive today, right? Will you.. will you--”_ _-_ Harry’s voice turned shaking - _“will you.. come home? Or.. No, please don’t go to a hotel baby, p-please come to our ho-home.”_ Louis was about to stop listening but heard Harry’s last plea and felt gutted. “ _It’s still ours, right_?” He could clearly hear Harry’s voice grow more intense and that nearly killed him. Without any hesitation, his thumb hovered over the Call button and he dialled Harry's number.

“You called.” Harry’s voice was both surprised and relieved. “Erm.. hey” he added in a soft voice.

“Hi.” he didn’t know what else to say.

“Listen Lou I’m.. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry for everything.”

“Harry you can't just go around and say things like that. I thought we were way past this. Back when the stunts and the bearding first started we agreed to fight for us.” He was surprised how composed he was; ignoring Harry for days had taken a toll on him and he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept properly for days now and felt emotionally raw.

“I know.” - after a moment of hesitation Harry added “Will you - will you fly here soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there today.”

“Will you..”

Louis knew what Harry wanted to ask. He had to say yes because he couldn’t take not going home, he didn’t want to be at a hotel full of strangers. He needed his home.

“Yeah, I.. I’ll be home.”

“Thank god” - came Harry’s relieved answer and then the line  went quiet. “I love you.” came Harry's breathless whisper.

“Yeah. Love you too” Louis added automatically but for the first time in his life the words felt wrong. _How did things get this fucked up?_

 

**September 10th**

They hadn’t talked since that phone call. Louis had flown out to L.A. just as he’d promised, just in time to kick off the last part of the US leg of the tour. He’d arrived with Alberto who had led him out the VIP exit at LAX and driven him straight to the hotel. Five minutes later he’d gotten into the car in the underground parking lot. The unsuspecting fans didn't have any idea that Louis wasn’t staying in the hotel because he had a home he shared with Harry and arriving to the hotel was just his decoy.

He was going home. Home. He could feel his heart beating out of his body, as he thought about how they would meet after everything that had happened. It could go a number of ways and he just wasn’t sure what to expect. Not knowing made him more anxious than he wanted to be. He still felt anger when he replayed the accusations Harry had thrown at him, but it felt pointless. Anger hadn’t done them any good so he decided to be the adult, no matter how Harry chose to handle things.

Arriving at the gated community, his emotions were going up and down as they approached their mansion. Suddenly, the car came to a stop and he slowly got out of it, walking through the pebbled path that led to the front door. He looked back at Alberto who had already gotten out of the car and was now leaning against the door. His bodyguard nodded at him with a small smile, encouraging him.

He hesitated a bit when he reached the door, wiped his sweaty palms on his trackies and finally rang the bell. It took Harry all of five seconds to open the door, and the next thing Louis knew, Harry was hugging him tight, crushing their lips together and pushing him into the wall with so much passion that the suitcase dropped to the floor.

Harry’s cold hands were exploring his body everywhere, no Hi, no OOPS, no nothing. On a normal day this would be great, so bloody amazing, but for some reason he wasn’t in the mood for making out; it didn’t feel right. He stepped out of the embrace, leaving a heavily breathing Harry with a surprised expression and raised eyebrows.

“Sorry, er... just, I really missed you Lou.” Harry stepped back cautiously.

"Yeah, I.. I missed you too.” Louis paused for a moment, not sounding very convincing at all.

Harry started fidgeting, avoiding Louis’ gaze and absentmindedly pulled the zipper of his hoodie up and down.

“Are we okay Lou?” Harry’s voice was filled with worry.

There was a moment of hesitation before Louis replied “Yeah.” He felt his body was going to explode with all the tension inside.

“Good.” came Harry’s reply and that slow smile he loved but hated at the present moment and hey, wasn't Harry supposed to be feeling that nothing is bloody good and that Louis needed more than a half-assed "sorry" blurted out with stupid puppy eyes?

“I made fajitas, your favorite.” Harry put his hand on Louis’ waist and guided him gently into the kitchen. The smells coming from the kitchen were amazing. They almost made him forget he was angry at Harry. Almost.

They sat down on opposite ends, Harry served him a plate and smiled at him; Louis forced a small smile of his own in return. They ate their food in almost complete silence. When he wasn’t chewing, he drank water just to preoccupy himself enough so he didn’t have to speak. To Harry’s credit, he was trying, occasionally asking about the flight and his family, but Louis didn't do more than mumble his answers while concentrating on his food instead.  

After they finished, Harry put the dishes in the sink and went to sit on the couch. He invited Louis with a “C’mere” and he reluctantly stood up, leaving his safe place. He sat down next to Harry, but not as close as he normally would, which he clearly noticed with a frown. He went to grab Louis’ hands and pulled his body onto his.

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” he murmured and pushed their mouths together in a soft slow kiss. Louis was battling with what he wanted more; to kiss him or punch him. He didn’t open his mouth, just gave him little pecks. Harry tried to deepen the kiss by swiping his tongue along Louis' lips and the more he persisted, the more resistant Louis became.

Harry was acting as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t called Louis’ devotion into question and insinuated that he was less committed to their relationship or worse yet, like he would actually chose to put Eleanor before him.  It was ridiculous is what it was and the more he let his thoughts drift back to it, the angrier he became. He backed away from the embrace, positioning himself on the other end of the couch, but Harry followed, cuddling him and caressing his strands on his neck as if he was just a puppy having a bad day.

He was clearly too oblivious to see how hurt Louis was. Honestly, Louis didn’t know what he expected from his boyfriend because he had, in fact, said that he was sorry and he’d even begged, yes, he had, but… somehow it wasn’t enough. Louis wanted to believe it was just a minor fallout but inside, he felt it was bigger than that; it felt as if Harry was getting away with it too easily. What would happen the next time Louis had to do a pap walk?  Would they be right back here again, fighting and hurting one another? Would he never realize the personal sacrifice Louis made every day in the name of preserving their love? Would he throw hurtful accusations his way every time because frankly, he wasn’t sure he could go through this again.  

Looking at his peaceful smile, the kind that showed his dimples, the anger he felt towards the younger boy came spitting out.

“Why are you this bloody calm?” he snapped.  

“What-what do you mean?” Harry’s eyes widened. He let go of Louis and stood up straight to have a better look at Louis' face. He’d guessed right, Harry had never suspected that he wasn’t okay. Why couldn’t he see that Louis was suffering and in pain?

“How can you be this calm after everything that you said?”

“I thought we were okay. You told me we were okay.” - he blurted out slowly, a frown deepening on his face.

“I know what I said Harry, but I expected you to be more humble about it and instead you’re making it look like nothing fucking happened.”

“What do you want me to do?  What can I do, Lou?”

And yes, that was a good question. Louis stood up, unable to sit still any longer. He needed to move.

“I don’t know Harry, but I definitely want you to stop kissing me and maybe think about how much you hurt me instead.”

“I’m sorry for saying what I said Lou, I was sad and drunk and -”

“And? Usually you're a right sap when you're drunk but that phone call felt like I didn't even have any say in it, as if you'd already decided something in your head and you didn't even give me a chance. You automatically assumed the worst and came up with the most ridiculous accusations and do you know what I think?” Louis stared at Harry with his fists clenched tightly. Harry just stared at him out of breath, not saying a word although he tensed up at Louis’ harsh tone.

“It felt like this wasn’t the first time those thoughts crossed your mind.”

Harry hung his head in shame staring at the hardwood floor, completely speechless, unwilling to respond. Louis felt his anger building up, watching Harry’s lack of reaction.

“Oh my god.. you meant it Harry.” He raised his hands in the air and started to pull his hair exasperatedly. “Jesus, you really meant what you said! You were fucking convinced I didn’t want to be with you! Tell me I’m wrong Haz. Tell me that I’m bloody wrong and I swear to God I’ll forgive and forget.”

Each of his own questions felt like a punch in the gut, and if it was possible, the pain doubled with each passing second. He took a step towards Harry, lifted his chin with his finger so he could finally look him in the eye because damnit, he should fucking look him in the eye, Louis deserved that much. Man up, don’t take the coward's way out.

Finally those greens were on him, troubled expression focused on Louis, lips twitching.

“Tell me I’m bloody wrong.”

Harry remained quiet and Louis could hear every inhale and exhale that he took.

Louis’ lips turned into a sardonic smile. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Lou, I --” Harry took a tentative step in Louis' direction.

He instinctively stepped back. “Don’t.  Don’t Lou me! Don’t fucking Lou me if you think I don’t love you enough to put everything on the line for you, for us.” he was at the edge of shouting and Harry flinched at his anger.

“I never said that!” - retorted Harry defensively. Good. It was really shitty but seeing Harry riled up made Louis feel better.

“You implied it!”

“I was hurt!”

“That’s not an excuse Harry!”

Harry raised his hands in the air, desperate. “Then what do you want me to say?”

“I want you to go back in time and never fucking say the things you said! I want you to apologize and really mean it and I want you to tell me that you understand she means nothing to me and that all of the bullshit that I put up with was for us, has always been for us. That you know - that you really understand that if it had been within my power to be with you, I would have been there in a heartbeat. That you know that my love for you is every bit as strong for you as yours is for me. Jesus Christ, Harry! Why is this so difficult to understand? You never should have questioned my loyalty towards you. How the hell can we get married one day if you’re always questioning me in the back of your mind?”

“You know I can’t go back in time, I can only take the words back and say I’m sorry which I already did. I CALLED YOU ALL THE BLOODY TIME! I apologized and I don’t know what else I can do to make you understand how sorry I am! I’m sorry, Lou. God, I’m so fucking sorry.” Harry was ringing his hands out as he frantically tried to get Louis to hear his regret.

“Sorry isn’t enough Harry! You actually _believed_ it. You won’t get away with a _sorry_! Not this time.”

Harry stiffened, his eyes widening and looking suspiciously wet. “What do you mean by not this time?” His voice was trembling.

“Do you really want me to spell it out for you? How many times have you lashed out because of her?” Louis’ voice just made Harry’s hands shake harder until he snapped.

“Get that stupid grin off your face Louis! Do you know, NO, let me rephrase it, can you fucking comprehend how it feels to see you kiss her, touch her and fucking be with her while you're banned from fucking LOOKING at me? If you happened to forget, WE are the couple, WE are together but you’re kissing and touching HER in public!” with each word he poked Louis in the chest.

“Do you honestly believe I don’t know that? Do you really think it’s easy for me? To see you suffer and not be able to help because I’m the one causing your pain? Do you think it’s a bloody game to me? It's not a damn game and I'd appreciate if you saw how much your words hurt me! I love you so fucking much that I signed the bearding contract in a heartbeat to protect us! You mean THAT FUCKING MUCH TO ME!”

The silence that followed had enveloped them like a blanket of darkness. They looked at each other, both panting from a combination of rage and fear. Harry was now on the other side of the room. Louis didn’t know when that had happened, but it didn’t matter really. They were in the same room but so fucking far away from one another, like they were in separate galaxies. It was so intense how everything had changed in such a short space in time and Louis didn’t know how to get back. At Least with a long distance call he could blame it on the phone, but now, being in the same room, he felt that something inevitably had broken and it was blinking above his head like a fucking neon light.

He wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to act. The air was tight and this was not the usual sexual tension vibrating between them, this was something dark and something frightening and apparently both of them were too terrified to acknowledge it.

“You know how much I hate this charade.” Harry sounded both exhausted and broken, just as Louis had felt.

“Yeah, Haz I know, but the whole time you haven’t realized ONCE, just once that I’m doing it for us, I could’ve said fuck it and just left you and then the whole fucking problem would have been solved. But I didn’t want that because I love you so much, I believe in us. That’s why it hurts so damn much that you never once admitted that you understood why I do the bearding.”

“I appreciate it, I always did, but it still hurts okay? It just hurt more that day. I thought we’d agreed to no touching and it gutted me seeing the pictures of you holding her hand.”

“It was only for a couple of shots, the paps kept pushing it. Why do you think I had to be there if not to show how straight I am?” sarcasm was dripping off Louis.

“I know.” Harry said softly, sounding defeated.

“You know but you don’t understand Haz. You still question my devotion to you and that’s the problem. You’re just saying this now - you clearly meant everything you said and it fucking hurts. I can’t forget it, I just can’t.”

"And I can only say how sorry I am. But apparently that’s not enough for you" came Harry’s resigned murmur.

After a long pause Harry spoke up. “So we’re back at square one.”

“Guess we are.”

 Harry started pacing the room, his face buried in his hands.

“This is ridiculous Lou! We’re arguing over how much we love each other, please let’s stop this, let’s make up and just forgive me for what I said. Can you forgive me? I'm begging you please!”

“No Harry, don’t put this on me! YOU broke us and YOU pushed us off a cliff.”

“B-broke? Wha-what do you mean I broke us? Lou we--”

“We’re so fucking broken Harry” - the sarcastic tone came off Louis too easily. He paused for a moment then went on, “If you meant even for a second whatever you said to me then no, I cannot fucking forget and live my life pretending that nothing happened.”

“No, no, _no!_ We had a fight, yes, but we can talk it out. I don’t expect you to forget it, but let’s talk like adults. Don’t shut me out. I love you, I love you so damn much!”

“I guess sometimes love isn’t enough. It’s not enough because you clearly don’t see how much I love you.”

“Don’t say that Lou, please. Please don’t say things you’ll regret.”

Louis’ expression turned hard, his jaw set, eyes almost dead. “Fucking unbelievable Harry. Don’t start preaching to me about what I can regret and what I can’t. You have no right to do so! You lost it the moment you ---”

“The moment I?” Harry demanded with a challenging tone, his jaw set.

“The moment you broke us.” - came Louis’ answer in a monotonous voice. He turned around, grabbed his luggage, and headed towards the door. His rushed steps made an angry noise against the hardwood floor. He reached the door and that was the moment he heard Harry put the nail in the coffin. "Yeah, go back to _her_ ".

He halted as if he’d crashed into an imaginary wall, turned back very slowly, looked at Harry and his tear streaked face. "Go back to her, at least you can be with her openly."

He couldn't believe what he heard. "Fuck you Harry!" then yanked the handle and slammed the door behind him with as much force as he could muster.  

He wanted to scream, he was so fucking angry at Harry. He kept kicking the gravel on his way out, like it was somehow to blame. Why the fuck did he come here with the naive belief that after their first earth shattering argument everything would be sunshine and rainbows? Why was Harry being so damn insensitive? The questions were swirling in his head as he approached the car, and then he just snapped out of it. He glanced at Alberto quickly, shared a wordless exchange with him as he opened the boot himself and threw in his suitcase. It felt good to throw things, even if it was his innocent suitcase. He needed to do something to get his mind off of this.

Getting into the car, he closed the door and perhaps it was with a bit too much force, but could anyone really blame him? The driver looked at him through the mirror but fortunately didn’t acknowledge his mood change. “To the hotel please.” he mumbled, settling himself into the plush seat. He checked his phone and realized it had only taken only two hours. Two hours ago he had come to LA as a man in a relationship, engaged to be married to the love of his life. Now he was leaving with a broken heart.

He sent a quick text to Liam: 

“ _Hey, H went out w Jefe for the night . Can I crash at yours ?_ ” He didn’t feel bad for lying. He needed this now. Needed his friends to distract him from what his life had become.

Liam’s reply came in an instant.

“ _Sure Tommo, bring ur PS4. Lads r havin’ a partee but I’m not in da mood._ ”

“ _Ha ! Will kick your ass !_ ”

He felt a burning gaze from his left as he turned his phone off, but he didn't dare risk a look at his bodyguard.

 

**

 

He had been with Liam and Zayn for an hour now, desperately wanting to do something to distract himself. The phone buried in his pocket got hotter and hotter; he was sure Harry was trying to reach him, wanting to talk. But what the fuck was there to talk about? It looked like they had differences about the basic pillars of a relationship: trust. He knew that deep down Harry trusted him, but in the sense of trusting that he wanted to be with Harry every waking and even sleeping moment, that one was lacking. They played FIFA and he listened to stories Liam that was rambling on about some of their fans. He was absolutely sure he’d overcompensated being in a good mood and therefore Liam was probably suspecting a thing or two, but his friends didn’t show any signs of awareness. Louis did his damnedest to stay engaged in the conversation and act normal. After this went on for a couple of hours, he claimed it a victory, and they decided to call it a day.

He headed to Liam’s guest room, but didn’t go to sleep; he needed time to think. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, how would Harry act. The only thing he was sure about was that he was fucking pissed at Harry and that they had broken up yesterday. What would tomorrow bring? He had zero clue.

He also knew that his friends would start noticing that something was up and he would need to tell them what happened. As he was about to drift off to sleep, he resolved that it would have to be dealt with later. He could barely process what had happened hours earlier, let alone attempt to explain it to anyone else.

As he tried to settle into the bed that felt too big, too cold and all wrong, an unexpected pain overtook him and churned at his organs. He felt the physical pain in his heart and he pressed on his chest seeking relief but found none. Harry had ripped himself from there and Louis was so frustrated and so fucking sad because he would've done anything for him. Anything. But apparently everything wasn’t enough for him and that hurt too much for him to handle.

 

**September 11th**

He woke up feeling empty, having had the worst night sleep of his life. He wanted to just wallow in self pity, but they had a concert to perform that night, which meant they had to meet Helene to rehearse. If they weren’t on tour, this would have been a great time for him to embrace some junk food and sleep forever. Every chick flick advised to just crash and burn, he might try it out eventually.

Since Harry was staying in their house and not in the hotel, he arrived separately. Thank god for that. Louis was not ready to address the situation with him nor with the other boys.

Having the other lads in the car felt good as he was able to  use the current conversation as a distraction from his own problems. Zayn, Liam and him jumped out of the car and started chasing each other and this was good, normal even. Better put, they were being themselves: fooling around while walking down the big long corridors of the stadium with Paul side-eyeing them and his expression holding an untold warning: _you asshats better not even think of taking the golf cart, you have 20 minutes till rehearsal_. So  naturally they took the golf cart and thankfully Paul knew better than to chase them or stop them. They were having fun, and if Louis was maybe forcing himself to have some fun as a distraction, well, who could blame him?

The lads went ahead, leaving him behind, while he fidgeted with some cables in the golf cart. He could have sworn they weren't hanging when he'd first sat down. Finally, he managed to tie them to their correct place and when he double checked to see if the cart would start, it did-thank god for small favors.

When he finally looked up from his handiwork, that was when he saw him. Harry stopped in his tracks, his expression giving away that he wasn't expecting to run into Louis quite yet. He mumbled a quiet “Hi” to Louis then lingered, likely waiting on a response.

There had been far too much Harry in the last few days and Louis wasn't prepared for more.  Not yet anyway.  

“Lou, can we talk?”

 “Why is it that we always have to talk when you’re ready? Maybe I’m not ready to talk, eh? Did you ever think that _I_ might not be ready?!” he lashed out and watched as Harry flinched at his tone.

“Please, I want to talk, I would like to exp--” Harry stopped as Louis’ eyes reflected an unexpected level of ferocity directed straight at him. “Lou.” Harry’s whisper was barely audible as he sucked in desperate gulps of air. “I just want to say I’m sorry, ok?”

“You already said it.”

“But I mean it Lou.”

“Yeah… you always mean what you say Harry. I heard that already.” added Louis in a trenchant tone.

Harry forced his eyes closed, jaw loose, pulling the book he carried tight against his chest. “Will you... can you...” - Harry started but then he thought it better - “just tell me when you’re ready to… ready to talk.” - he added in a low voice and before Louis could reply he doubled his steps in the direction of the rehearsing room.

Not long after Harry was gone, his phone beeped. It was a message from him.

 

 

> **_Act Naturally_ **
> 
> **_Don’t let our troubles show_ **
> 
> **_Don’t let anybody know_ **
> 
> **_Till we get it figured it out_ **  
>  **_Don’t give them anything_ **
> 
> **_That they could doubt._ **

Thankfully, for rehearsal they didn’t need to sing all the songs and yet somehow, they managed to appear normal. He was laughing with the lads, and maybe his reaction was a bit delayed, but he did everything within his power to mask his emotions. This sounded perfectly good in his mind but Niall and Zayn caught his gaze a couple of times so obviously he wasn’t as transparent as he’d hoped. All he could do was hope they wouldn’t ask any questions.

They had just finished with ‘Little White Lies’ when Helene spoke. “Let’s try Strong.”

Strong. His song. Their song. _His_ Strong. No. _No_. His eyes frantically searched for familiar greens and when their gazes locked he could see Harry mirroring his own tortured expression.

He couldn’t help himself. “Is there really a need to sing it?” Louis did his best to sound nonchalant. Based on the reactions of the people in the room which were mostly raised eyebrows or frowns, his subtlety was lacking.

“Yes, I haven’t heard it since you were in Chicago, I would like to hear the harmonies.”

Louis felt actual physical pain at Helene’s reply. He didn’t dare to chance another look at the lads. He wasn’t ready to hear Harry sing their song. He wasn’t ready to listen to him sing about how strong he felt with him. Because the problem was that Harry didn't feel strong enough. Certainly not strong enough to trust him while Louis did and that was why he wrote him the song. The fucking irony.

Zayn started off with the first verse and Liam joined, sounding perfect together as usual. Then it was chorus time and.. Harry... was not singing.

After a brief hesitation he looked over at Harry, and all that he could see was the tall boy making himself into the smallest as his shoulders sagged, his body slumped and his face turned towards the ground.

As if on cue, he looked up at him, his eyes flashing with a troubled expression.

“Haz, you’re okay?” Liam was the first to react. He jumped off the edge of the couch he had been setting on and started to approach Harry.

“I’m -I’m fine” he croaked out but he sounded anything but fine.

Helene offered an easy way out by asking if he needed a minute, but Harry turned  to her and with slight determination shook his head. Ever the stubborn one.

“No, I.. I can sing it.” he replied on a raspy voice.

 

“ **I’m sorry if I say I need you** ” the moment the first notes left Harry's lips it was clear he was not ready for this. His voice cracked, it was powerless, it sounded like the saddest symphony ever written. It was painful to listen to.

“ **But I don’t care I’m** \--” he paused. “ **I’m not scared of love** ” Everything sounded so wrong. He took little pauses within words as if forming them would cause him physical damage.

“‘ **Cause when I’m not with you I’m w-** … “

Harry stopped singing mid-sentence, turned his head sideways with a deep sigh, then covered his eyes. His chin visibly trembled and fuck, Louis couldn’t bear this anymore. He forced himself to turn away and focus on anything else. Connecting with Helene's gaze, he felt the scrutiny; each little move of his was being observed under a magnifying glass.

“I think it’s okay, Hel." - Louis snapped his head at their vocal coach. He didn't even think. It just came out. Helene was looking at him with a worried expression. "The harmonies were always good.” he felt the need to add, and then looked pointedly at her. The room fell silent, he sensed all eyes on him. He felt naked, wanted to scream to fucking stop the interrogation with their eyes. They kept checking on Harry then at him, it felt so ridiculous, they looked like the audience during a tennis game. He felt trapped.  _Fucking  stop._

 _Oh_. His brain to mouth filter was failing him as apparently he was speaking out loud because everyone’s gaze was fixed on him.

 _Wonderful_. He sensed the silent questions targeting him as if he was the one breaking Harry's heart, as if it was his fault that everything had happened and he wasn’t nursing a broken heart of his own. He couldn't look at Harry anyomre, e itched to flee and before he knew it, his legs were carrying him rapidly towards his dressing room.

Louis was so determined to reach his dressing room, he was practically speed walking by the time he arrived. He closed his door and felt relieved that he’d managed to avoid anyone on his way there. He was heading to the sofa to crash when he heard a knock on the door. After a moment, Zayn's voice followed, "Lou it's me". He willed his legs to walk back to the door and opened it reluctantly. The moment he had been dreading the most came when he saw Zayn looking at him with worry in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“He’s just tired.. I guess” the sloppy answer didn’t work with Zayn and he knew it too well.

Zayn entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. He looked at Louis, gaze seeing through the sass.

“Louis, you know that’s not gonna cut it.   _What_ happened?”

“Oh, that…” he went for a sarcastic tone. “We broke up.”

If it wasn’t for the sad situation, he would've sassed the shit out of him for the way his eyes popped out of his head. “What do you mean you broke up?” he asked disbelievingly.

“I mean as it sounds. Broke up. Over. Done. Not together. B-R-O-K-”

Zayn approached him and was now sitting on the sofa as well. “Cut the bullshit Lou. I know what breaking up means but how the hell did it happen?”  

Louis took a deep breath. He didn’t want to deal with any of this right now. "Mate, I know you just want to help but please don't ask me anything. I'm not ready to talk. ”

Zayn laid back on the sofa and looked at Louis. “Lou, please tell me what happened?” he asked him very slowly and cautiously, as if he was walking in the middle of  a minefield, afraid to step on a bomb that could explode any second.

“God Zayn, I don’t even know, can’t think straight. It was... I guess everything was triggered by Eleanor, really. We had to do a stunt and I couldn't go to the funeral, fucking assholes wouldn’t let me.  I tried, believe me.  I wanted to be there, ‘course I did. I told him days before and I thought he was good with it but apparently not because he completely lashed out at me afterwards. We had a huge fight. He actually told me he thought I was choosing her over him.”

A soft knock on the door interrupted them and Louis looked at Zayn with wide eyes.

“Just Li. Told him to wait for me outside.”

Louis stood up and went to the door. Liam entered, looked first at Zayn, then chanced a glance at Louis and decided to sit down next to them. He didn’t talk.

“You know he takes her presence hard every time Lou. You gotta remember he was sad and sad people say very stupid things. You will work it out. Lou, it’ll be okay.” _It will be okay._ It reminded him of every time he’d cried in his mom’s lap when he was a little kid. His mom said the same thing, and he'd always believed her eagerly. Not this time though. He didn’t know now if it would be ever okay.

 

Their first show was starting in a few hours and to take his mind off of Harry and dangerous thoughts, he'd decided to play footie with Ollie and Niall and some other people from the staff. He was all wide smiles, louder than usual and overly sassy, so naturally his friends had been throwing strange looks at him throughout the game but none of them dared to ask him anything. Louis never felt more grateful. His mind was preoccupied with worry about how the tour would go on with things so completely messed up. Thank god they had only a few more shows. But either way, it would be difficult. He had no clue just how difficult it would really be.

Their night proved to be exactly what he'd expected: he was ecstatic because of the amazing Pasadena crowd but devastated because he felt physically pained seeing Harry, hearing his raspy voice. Just looking at the endearing younger boy bouncing around and smiling for the crowd turned him inside out. It hurt. It hurt when that smile wasn’t for him.  During the two hours they had looked at each other once or maybe twice. It was ridiculous really. _The fucking irony_.

For the first time there was no need to act; the avoidance and ignorance was real and that wouldn’t make any difference as he’d perfected that shit to a master degree throughout the years. Modest would be so damn proud.

He was still so, _so_ angry but he loved him as well. He was a walking contradiction.

Harry’s voice croaked during You and I, and he kept looking at Louis when he sang the chorus. It was intense, it was so fucking intense that his gaze opened up his skin and crawled underneath it. He tried everything to keep it together, to not be so affected; he kept pulling on his shirt, fiddling with his in-ears, fidgeting with the microphone stand, looking at the lads or out into the audience. He tried everything to tune Harry out, but nothing helped. He knew that Harry was in pain, but he was too. It was so fucked up. Just a few more shows, he kept telling himself, then they could all go back and live their lives. He just wasn't sure how to start his over, without him.

There was a message on his phone when he got back to his dressing room. His finger hovered over the phone screen, torn between clicking open the message and just simply deleting whatever Harry wanted him to read. Curiosity won the internal battle and he clicked the message open to find 5 simple sentences, words he knew only too well, ones that had sat in his head for weeks before he could get them down on paper.

 

 

> **_I'm sorry if I say, "I need you."_ **
> 
> **_But I don't care, I'm not scared of love._ **
> 
> **_'Cause when I'm not with you I'm weaker._ **
> 
> **_Is that so wrong?_ **
> 
> **_Is it so wrong?_ **

His curiosity turned to bitterness immediately. How dare Harry turn his words against him. Words he’d written in his POV as a declaration of his love for Harry. How dare he try and blackmail him with his own feelings?

With a spurt of overwhelming anger he clicked the delete button and threw his phone down. No way was Harry Styles going to play the sentimental card. He should’ve thought about playing that when he was yelling at him all those days ago.

 

**September 14th**

The days passed in a rapid succession after that, night after night, concert after concert and Louis couldn’t remember half of it. He hadn’t once gone back to their home while they were in L.A., not even on their free days. He’d spent his time with Zayn and Liam in the hotel room or went out with them at night incognito.

He suspected that Niall’s absence was because he was taking care of Harry. He wasn’t ready to think about it any deeper than that. He couldn’t allow himself to think that Harry had needed be to taken care of, that he might have cried or felt worse than he showed to their fans or really anyone other than the four of them.. _No_ , he was not ready for that. He didn’t have the energy to address him and the lyrics he had started to send to Louis on a daily basis now.  

 

> **_And when you're needed your space_ **
> 
> **_To do some navigating,_ **
> 
> **_I’ll be there patiently waiting_ **
> 
> **_To see what you find._ **

No, no, he couldn’t deal with this. He needed to take care of himself first.

His mind was in constant overdrive, sometimes wandering to the “what if” territory which was so fucking dangerous. He asked himself what if they hadn’t been closeted, what if they’d had more power over everything, what if Modest had allowed him to attend that funeral? Would they be still together? Or would there have been another bad day, a different long distance phone call where Harry crushed his heart again? What if it was the perfect storm, what if Harry would have never lashed out on him? Would he still have the boy with the curly locks in his bed, snuggling up to him?

No, he definitely didn’t have the luxury to spare any thought on what if’s. That was unhealthy. He had to deal with what life had dealt him, somehow fix himself and try to fill the huge hole in his chest with something, he just didn’t know how .

 

**September 17th**

 

> **_I had to learn what I’ve got, and what I’m not, and who I am._ **

He shut down his phone ignoring Harry’s continuous lyrical torture and decided to lie down to try to clear his head. Would it ever hurt less? Would he ever be able to look at another man? Would he ever be able to kiss someone else and not be disappointed that it wasn’t Harry’s soft lips, the gentle caress of his tongue, feeling his whole body ignite just from a single touch of his? What kind of stupid twist of fate was this? Why would he be shown true love at such a young age only to have everything taken away four years later?

 

**September 20th**

Some days were better than others but, some days were just plain awful. On those days, he flat out avoided people, preferring to stay in his hotel room instead.  Ollie and the lads tried continuously to take his mind off of Harry while Louis just tried to survive. Day by day. Always concentrating on how to survive tomorrow, then the next day.

 

> **_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind._ **
> 
> **_For me it happens all the time._ **

 

**September 25th**

 

> **_But now I'm waiting for a text, call, whatever_ **
> 
> **_What's gotten into me, besides you (Oops!)_ **

OOPS. His tattoo. Wonderful reminder and what a pleasant way to start the day really. _Thank you Harry_.

He wanted to punch the nearest wall for how everything had gone so horribly wrong. Maybe they should’ve never risked getting together, should’ve left everything completely professional, just friends from the beginning. With this break up he had lost his friend, he had lost his best friend and they would never be the same ever again. They had done everything together and even if they hadn’t, they had always known where the other was and what they were doing. Ever since their break up he knew nothing at all about Harry anymore.  And that hurt.  It hurt quite a lot actually.

So many times he just wanted to call him and talk to him about the smallest of things really, his thumb hovering above the speed dial button. He struggled to breathe when realization hit him that oh, well, it wasn't gonna happen because they had broken up.

In Harry, he'd lost his friend and he had to admit that he missed his best friend. He missed his best friend so bloody much and that might have hurt the worst of all.  

 

**September 26th**

He woke up to his own tears trickling down his face and checked his phone for the time. It was three am. Another message from him.

 

> **_Even if the skies get rough._ **

He was trembling and his entire body was covered in sweat. He had dreamt that he and Harry were still together. He’d had to double-check if he really was laying next to him, it had felt so real, and he’d felt so happy for a second until the realization hit him hard that Harry hadn’t been with him for weeks.

He had to take a shower to clear his head. He didn't know what he’d expected, though, because his body was still trembling an hour later.

 

**September 29th**

 

 

> **_But I'm only human_ **
> 
> **_And I bleed when I fall down_ **
> 
> **_I'm only human_ **
> 
> **_And I crash and I break down_ **
> 
> **_Your words in my head, knives in my heart_ **
> 
> **_You build me up and then I fall apart_ **
> 
> **_'Cause I'm only human._ **

 

**September 30th**

When he was the least prepared for it, a wave of fear crushed him over how much of his life was tangled with Harry’s. He hated not being with him, he hated how much he missed him. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone, he missed his presence, his smell, the everyday things like listening to his voice,  seeing him walking around their shared hotel room, listening to his light snoring when he was asleep, the way his curls and long hair got in the way and tickled Louis, but fuck, he didn't even have him in the same room anymore. He even missed listening to him curse early in the mornings when he thought he'd woken Louis up with the saucepan landing on the kitchen floor. He caught himself talking to empty quiet rooms or asking for something from him. Of course, he never got a reply because it was all in his head.  More times than not, he woke up with the realization that he had been spooning the air, and although he hadn’t admitted it, he’d shed more than his fair share of tears for himself and their lost relationship too.

Harry's message on his phone came about five minutes later.

 

**_When you see me shed a tear and you know that it's sincere_ **

**_Don’t you think it's kinda sad that you're treating me so bad?_ **

**_Or don't you even care?_ **

 

**October 1st**

It had to be one of the worst days of his life. There was a proposal near the stage and it struck him hard. Harry, ever the romantic, had helped the guy arrange it and Louis was gutted.

He remembered their first proposal. He remembered how his voice trembled, how his heart had tried to beat out of his chest, yet still, he was so sure of himself at age twenty that he wanted Harry to be his husband and he was willing to commit at such a young age. The proposal felt right and Harry had thought the same because he’d shouted "YES! YES!" then dropped down to him in a kneeling position mirroring his own. He’d looked into Louis’ eyes with an expression that was pure adoration and love, his beautiful smile with the dimples shining straight back at him. And he couldn't contain himself as he pushed Harry into the sand and kissed him with so much passion that he almost expected to combust into flames.

If Harry’s text message proved anything, their hearts were crying the same symphony at that moment.

**_It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife._ **

His fingers rubbed the delicate expensive label on the vodka bottle. He opened it up then and let the numbness take over his mind.

 

**October 2nd**

When he tried to open his eyes he felt as if shards of glass were poking the back of his eyeballs. His mouth felt like the bottom of a birdcage, the heavy feeling in his stomach making him want to vomit. The taste on his tongue was sour and the buzzing in his brain felt like the feedback from his microphone. He tried to move his body, but it felt too damn heavy. He could feel all of his bones, all of his muscles, and everything hurt. He finally managed to sit up and looked around him. _Why am I on the couch?_ He registered two empty bottles on the table. _Oh, yeah, that_. Waves of self pity flooded his brain as he mentally promised himself that there would never be another morning like this one.

Just as he was heading to the bathroom, there was a noise that he swore came from the door. The knocking turned into banging and Niall’s insistent shouting “Open up Lou. I know you’re there. Open up!”

_OK, what the fuck? I’m coming already._

As soon as the door was open, Niall entered into his room, but stopped suddenly in the middle and sniffed at the air.

“What the fuck happened here? Did you cancel your house cleaning service?

“Huh?” _OK, so two bottles of vodka maybe wasn’t such a good idea on an empty stomach_.

Niall went to the fridge and took out his lunch which was definitely past its expiration date. He got a bin bag and started throwing in the bottles, the empty chip bags and all of the remnants of the fast food crap he'd put in his system lately.

He disappeared for a moment, then doubled back. _What the hell?_

“Lou are you even listening to me?” Niall’s face finally became one, and the view got a bit sharper. _Why was he talking this loud?_ Then he started making these funny motions with his hands. It was so funny that Louis started to laugh. Niall shot him a weird look, then he got fed up and took the bottle from Louis' hand. _Hey what the fuck?_

“What the fuck?” he approached Niall and was about to grab the bottle back but the next second the liquid was disappearing down the toilet. “Why the fuck did you do that, Niall?” he knew he was slightly out of his mind but he didn’t care. That was his vodka bottle, dammit.

But that wasn’t all. Niall went to his dresser next and pulled out a t-shirt, jeans and underwear and spread them out on his bed.

“Why are you doing this to yourself? You’re angry all the time... you even snapped at Caroline yesterday. I get it that you’re hurt, okay? I get it. But enough is enough Lou!”

“What the hell should I do then?” he shouted, his voice cracking.

“Sober the fuck up and go take a shower for god’s sake, you reek.  Get a good night’s sleep, then go talk to him.”

“I don’t want to talk to him, I didn’t start this shit, don’t you get it?! I was fine being us. He fucking destroyed me, he killed us!”

“It’s not just you who lost him, Lou! I lost Harry too. We all lost the both of you! The band is so different and it shouldn’t be, because you two knobs should be together. You love each other for fucks sake! You love Harry and he loves you just as bloody much! If you’d just stop all this self pitying and open your eyes you’d see it. He fucked up, yeah, but he apologized. It’s you who can’t forgive him.”

Niall walked to the couch, continuing to pick up the trail of crap that was spread all over the floor. He eventually sat back on the couch, Louis following him.

They sat together for a while in silence until Louis finally got up and took a long overdue shower. Niall was still in the same spot when he got back.

He definitely felt better. He put his legs on the coffee table in front of the TV and contemplated his life. There were still no words exchanged for a while. It was one of those times when just sitting next to a good friend, though not talking, helped patch the bruises on your heart. He felt exhausted and he definitely welcomed the silent support. His emotions were up and down but Niall’s words had helped him sober up.

“Why are you on his side?” he asked him quietly and yeah, he definitely sounded tired.

“I’m not on anyone’s side Louis, but I don’t know what you’re expecting from him anymore. You knew that he wasn’t okay, you can’t hold him accountable for what was said in his emotional state. He chased you, he begged you, he’s been crying for weeks now and I can’t stop it, I wanna stop it.” His voice cracked as the tears started to come and fuck, Niall was not supposed to cry and Louis was not supposed to see him crying. He felt like shit, it was a kick in the stomach. This was the first time he realized that it wasn’t just him and Harry, but three more people were equally affected by their break up. The guilt flooded him was intense.

“I don’t get it Louis, I don’t fucking get it. People break up because they’re cheating, or not in love anymore. They don’t break up because they love each other too much.”

“Ni, my love was never going to be enough for him. He actually admitted that he thought I’d choose El over him. Don’t you get it? We’re too broken. I can’t fix us..”

“Keep telling that to yourself Tommo. Maybe you’ll eventually believe it.”

Later that night all he could think about was Harry's new lyrics. 

 

 

> **I can try to please you**
> 
> **Get down on my knees for you**
> 
> **Go outside and freeze for you**
> 
> **Cross the high seas for you**
> 
> **Whatever you need me to**
> 
> **I can climb the trees for you**
> 
> **Twist in the breeze for you**
> 
> **But there’s one thing that I can never do**
> 
> **I can’t believe for you**
> 
> **I can’t believe in me for you.**

 

**October 3rd**

Harry.

Braids.

Harry in braids.

Harry had his hair in actual braids.

He was the most beautiful creature Louis had ever seen.

October 4th

He kept rebooting his phone. It was past 12:13 AM. No matter how he wanted to will, no messages came on his phone. It was the first day he didn’t receive lyrics from Harry. He had never felt this helpless.

 

**October 5th**

It was the day of their last concert and it felt like the end of a journey. They had been at their absolute strongest when the tour kicked off and about seven months later, on their last concert of the tour they had been broken up for weeks. How the fuck had this happened?

The concert went pretty much the same as any; normally he could feel when Harry was looking at him, but that feeling was gone since Harry had stopped searching for him on stage quite some time ago. He'd also stopped with the bouncing around and interacted with Niall a whole lot more than before. He'd gotten used to it. What he couldn't prepare for though was the sudden emotional upheaval that trapped his body whenever they sang a love song.

Strong and Happily were the hardest, but he shouldn't have underestimated Little Things and Through the Dark. The lyrics of Little Things hit way too close to home to leave him unaffected and he was beyond fucking relieved when the song ended.

Through the Dark had been especially hard since both him and Harry had brought tension into their close knit group. The lads had always been supportive of their relationship but after Niall discussed it with him, it had become even more obvious just how crushed they were over the break up.

Listening to them sing Through the Dark which was an actual manifest of the massive support their love received from Liam, Niall and Zayn was heartbreaking. But at their last concert he felt gutted more than usual.

The final straw was their group hug. It was nothing unusual, they had always had group hugs on the last show of their tours, but he wasn't prepared for the instant buzzing electricity that shot through his body. He knew the feeling all too well. It was exactly the same every single time Harry had ever touched him. He quickly pulled his hands back from Louis but not fast enough that Louis didn’t feel as if he had been burnt by the hottest of fires. Fuck, he had missed that touch so much.

After the group hug he looked for any kind of distraction he could find. He remembered Paul leaving bags of flour in a cardboard box and took it his cue as to start a dirty flour fight, never once glancing in Harry's direction.

When they were all covered in white he went around the catwalk and other parts of the stage, thanking the fans for supporting them in 2014.

They ran off the stage after their 'thank you's' and all Louis could think about was a warm bed and getting a good night's sleep, or maybe even a few days.

He left the venue in a rush, hoping to get to his hotel room as fast as he could, only when he arrived there, somebody was sitting in the lobby waiting for him.

Liam. Liam who had never addressed the situation between him and Harry.  Not once.

They went up to the room that he shared with Zayn, Louis letting himself in first and Liam jumping to business immediately.

“Listen, I’ve been quiet this whole time because I thought you two were smart enough to figure things out but I’m getting sick watching both of you give up on each other because you’re both too stubborn to try and fix this mess.” Louis looked at him and listened. “Can I ask something?”

Louis nodded, tears bright in his eyes.

“Do you still love him?”

“Li the question was never whether I loved him or not. Ask him how much he loves me.”

“I know Lou, but I’m asking you. Do you still love him?”

“Of course I do. I never stopped.”

“I’m worried for you and... for Harry too. He’s lost so much weight. He’s not happy. Sometimes I’m worried if he’s.. if he’s..“

“NO! He wouldn’t, he would never do anything!” Louis raised his voice and shook his head in firm denial. He was surprised how much he dreaded even the possibility of what Liam envisioned happening. Guilt slammed into him hard like a trailer truck, shame and disappointment taking over his body. If anything... No he couldn't fucking think about that. Harry was strong.

“He’s depressed, Lou. You can’t say you don’t see it. He needs you, and you need him. You were each other’s best friends. You went from lovers to nothing.”

After a pause Liam added: “You have the power to end this, you know? To be the bigger man, forgive him and take him back.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Then just start as friends.”

He looked at Liam while trying to process his words “ _Just start as friends_ ”, his mind was on overdrive. Could they go back to being just friends? What was the definition of _friends_? Had they ever even been just friends? _“_ _No, we’re not friends, nor have we ever been_ _”_ They had kissed only a week after they’d met for god’s sake. _“_ _And friends shouldn’t kiss me like you do._ _”_ If he really thought about it, he'd been gone for Harry the moment he'd first seen him. Could they be friends now? Would that ever work out given their history? It certainly couldn’t hurt to try, he argued with himself. It literally hurt not trying, so perhaps he should give it a chance now.

“Damn Leeyum, I hate when you make sense! Don’t go getting wise on me!” Louis clutched Liam’s head, trying to lighten the mood and it worked because his smile came instantly.

“Baby steps Lou. Baby steps.” Liam whispered, patted Louis’ shoulder lightly, stood up, and pulled Louis into a tight embrace.

_When the fuck had Liam gotten this smart and how the hell had he missed it?_

After chatting up about lighter topics with Liam, a little bit later, Louis arrived back to his hotel room. Liam's words were on constant replay in his mind and eventually he found himself seriously considering whether he could be just friends with Harry. Friends would be better than this he imagined. He definitely had been missing that part of their relationship.  Just as he was trying to figure things out a familiar beeping sound indicated that he had received another message. He absentmindedly checked it:

 

> **_I don't wanna be with someone who walks away so easily._ **

His heart stopped beating for a moment. He read the message again and again to make sure he hadn't misread it but after seeing the exact same words for the 100th time his body gave up functioning.

No, this couldn’t be it. It could not fucking be it. Not the Jason Mraz lyrics. Oh god, how many times had they sung that song to one another? This was _their_ song. They had always used it as a safety blanket of sorts when they needed to protect their love during stunts. He remembered Harry taking his guitar out from underneath the bed and lovingly humming it in his raspy voice, maintaining eye contact so intensely that he was lost in his mesmerizing emeralds. After hearing that beautiful song, their mood always got better and they felt more reassured in their love and devotion towards one another. How many times had they sworn that they were stronger and that their love had everything necessary to survive the shit that was thrown at them? And now Harry was sending these lyrics. The Jason Mraz lyrics.

“I won’t give up” was their mantra. But he’d modified the original lyrics and added the “with” which twisted the entire meaning. And the meaning was not so good this time. The same song that helped them survive and had been with them throughout their battles became the exact same one that now sent him spinning, letting out choking, animalistic sounds.

He felt nausea hitting his throat, his vision was checking out, his trembling hands were reaching for anything solid to hold onto. He felt trapped, as if brick walls were closing in on him from every direction. His legs gave out and his body slid down the wall in slow motion. Everything was quiet and too loud all at once. He could hear the soft sound of his phone hitting the carpet and at the same time he could see all of their laughter, their love, and all of the happiness they had ever shared, mocking him as imaginary videos of them played insanely loudly in front of him, like a twisted cruel joke.

He lay there for god knows how long, tears trickling over his ears, falling everywhere. His nose was running, his breathing uneven, but he didn’t fucking care. He so didn’t care.

He felt everything and nothing at the same time. How was that even possible? He didn’t know where he was, what time it was, what he had done in the past five minutes, had five minutes even passed? It didn’t matter that the floor was cold or that  the carpet had carved a stupid pattern on his face. No. He felt everything inside. The void, the pain, the black hole.  No matter how hard he wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed, he couldn’t force the pain away.

He had used the stubborn card for too long and now he might have lost the love of his life forever because of it. He was given up.

And there was nothing worse in this entire universe than feeling left behind.

Unwanted.

 

**October 6th**

When he opened his eyes it took him a moment to register where he was. His penthouse suite had too many bright colours, unfair. He felt betrayed and mocked by the sunlight, how dare it not mourn with him, for him? The sunlight’s reflection on the pool was painting dancing figures on the ceiling. He wanted them to stop dancing, he didn’t want to see anything which was happy. He wanted to get up and pull the shades down, because _who the fuck needs sunlight?_ He attempted to move his hands, then his legs, but it hurt. Every muscle in his body hurt. He'd once read that the human body had hundreds of muscles. At that moment he'd swear he felt every single one of them, combined with pins and needles that he had from laying in the same position on the floor for so long. He tried to cover his eyes, raised his hand and that’s when he felt another tidal wave of sadness. The rope tattoo. Harry. The text. The Mraz lyrics. It hit him hard that yesterday really happened, Harry had given up on him.

He looked at the broken rope on his wrist. The fucking irony. They were planning to tie the two ends together after they were able to take their love public, now it would never happen. It’s not that they wouldn’t be permitted to come out, it’s that they were no longer together and it didn't mean the same thing.

Harry had been the anchor to his rope, the ship to his compass, the quote to his quotation marks. The left to his right. The love of his life. The only person he'd ever truly loved. The only person who'd ever truly understood him, not just the public Louis Tomlinson that everyone got to see, but what was inside. He was the only person who'd ever bothered to peel off all the layers to his soul so he could fully understand who he was. He was the person he'd shared homes with, clothes with, his life, his heart and now he would share a past with him as well.

He prayed for the pain to be gone. Why hadn’t he ever read those self help books? Why was he only just now having his first heartbreak at age twenty-two? Was it even normal that he'd never had one before? Why did it hurt like a bitch? How would it all go away? How the hell did people live through pain like this? Was he supposed to wake up one day and be okay again? Because that felt like an impossibility right now. He had never felt more sorry for himself or had more regret.

No matter which body part he moved he saw the tattoos; he raised his hand and his arrow faced him. Millions of memories flooded his mind, of how proud he’d felt when he got it done, how it had aligned with Harry’s anatomical heart tattoo.

Now, every single time he’d look in the mirror, he would be reminded of how stupid he had been to let Harry go. Regardless, he didn’t want to cover any of them. They reminded him of the best time and the greatest love of his life. Painting them over with something stupid that had no meaning would be a betrayal of their love. He wasn’t willing to do it. How the fuck was he supposed to live his life as if the art on his body wasn’t there?

He hadn’t eaten much in the last few days. That day after Harry’s last message was no exception. He didn’t have breakfast and so, around 3 PM, his stomach gave up patiently waiting for solid food, turned grumpy and kicked him from the inside. Louis took it as his cue to call room service. The lady’s monotone voice as she described their daily menu was no source of comfort and he asked her to just send whatever they had up to his room as soon as they could.

About twenty minutes later there was a knock on his door followed by a clear, “Room service.” He quickly walked to the door to let the young lad in. He was a new one, and Louis hoped there would be no questions asked. He loved his fans, he truly did, and he didn’t want to be rude to them or refuse an autograph, but now was not the time. It would be better if he was just left alone. As if a clear understanding had been passed between them, the lad headed to Louis’ desk, put the tray on it, looked around and probably registered the mess his room had become, but didn’t dare to speak up. _Thank fuck_. He tipped him well and started picking at some Mexican food. It wasn’t too bad, but it was nothing like.. nothing Like Harry’s. _Oh for god’s sake, how much time would need to pass in order to clear all of his memories or at least make them hurt less?_

He grabbed his phone, his fingers hovering over the unlock button, swiped his pointer finger in a quick motion and unlocked his phone. The background photo immediately popped up and his stomach clenched at the sight of Harry kissing his cheek from the back, while he was making a silly face. It was taken by Liam when they were in Amsterdam during their last tour. Their smiles were such a sharp contrast to the constant sadness that had taken over Louis for weeks now.

He absentmindedly hit the gallery button, regretting it instantly, but couldn’t seem to make himself to stop.

There were a bunch of pictures: Harry in bed, close ups of Harry’s eyes, Harry with Doris, followed by both of them with Ernest, Harry with him, Harry this, Harry that. It was all too much. He opened one of them from the slide view and it was the picture of them at his mum’s wedding that she had taken herself. They were slow dancing, holding each other in a secure embrace, completely lost in one another, ignoring the whole world. _Fuck, they were so happy_. How did it all go so bad?

When his phone suddenly started ringing, he jumped out of his seat at the unexpected buzz.

It was Liam. He pushed ignore and went back to the photo gallery.

There was a video of him making breakfast in their home in L.A. and  he stupidly clicked play. There he was, narrating the entire event, attempting to be funny, whilst Harry was filming it, and laughing at him all the while. Harry’s loud laughter cut deep into the silence of his hotel room.  Louis was explaining how to make the perfect pancakes. _You know Harold it’s all about the dough_. God, they were so stupid. Stupid teenagers in love. The video started shaking whenever Harry was laughing. Harry was trying to help after he’d found a very stubborn pancake, _Bugger off Curly, this is my show_. Kissing noises followed, the video turned into a shaky mess again, a lot of blurring, zooming in and zooming out. He didn’t care about the quality; it was perfect. It was the manifest of two perfectly different boys fitting together like Yin and Yang. Harry spoke up and asked Louis not to be funny anymore because he couldn’t keep the phone still and record while laughing. He’d rolled his eyes at him and fake complained about why it was really necessary to make a video about him making bloody pancakes. Harry retorted it was because he loved how sexy his ass looked while making the dough and fuck if Louis was going to keep complaining after that compliment. No. He didn’t. He’d gone and stood in his flirtiest position possible exaggerating everything in lieu of even more of Harry’s attention.  

He was meant to send this video to Harry, but it was somehow forgotten and left on his phone instead. _Does it matter anymore?_ He clicked on the pause button and went for the next one. _If it already hurt, then why not hurt more, right?_

The next video was focused in on a guitar but, then as it zoomed out Harry’s stupid grin came into the frame, the grin that showed all his dimples. Fuck. He knew which song he was going to play. Yup. The Jason Mraz song. Not long after he hit play, the video got a bit blurry and he had to wipe his running nose. He couldn’t take it anymore.

 A knock on the door startled him and if nothing else, it was a perfect excuse to get away from his phone. He stood up too fast, getting dizzy for a second, walked to the door, unlocked the latch and opened it.

Liam stood there with the most annoying version of puppy eyes and upon Louis’ loud sigh, he raised a bottle of.. _What?_ a bottle of Coke as a sign of “coming  in peace”. Louis raised his eyebrows.

“Shouldn’t it be stronger than that, mate?!”

Liam’s eyebrows went to the sky, mockingly. Mocking Louis’ mocking. _Is there such thing as mocking someone’s mocking? OK. So. Coke?_

 “Well, better than vodka. Rumor has it the last two bottles didn’t really leave you too well off, eh? Hear it wasn’t a story you’d wanna tell your grandchildren, amirite?” And okay, yeah, Liam would never be able to get rid of the Daddy nickname.

“You’re something else Payno. You’re something else.”

Liam took a step into his room.

“What have you been up to Tommo?”

“Er..” Before Louis had a chance to think about his reply, the song reached the chorus and they were both startled by the intensity of Harry’s singing on his phone. Louis had forgotten he’d left it on.

Liam’s face showed panic that quickly settled into determination. He grabbed the phone from Louis. “No, no, no. You’re not gonna do this to yourself Lou.” He stopped the video in a blink of an eye..

“Li, I need this.” Louis attempted to get his phone back but decided otherwise. Maybe Liam was right, because whatever he'd done himself to get over the pain since Harry’s last text had failed miserably.

“No, you need a friend”… - he hesitated for a second - “and coke.” he mumbled while raising his hand where he still held the newfound medicine to heartbreak.

“And coke?” teased Louis with a strong accent.

“Shut it.”

Their banter quickly finished, both knowing what was to come, that they couldn’t ignore the pink elephant in the room for much longer. Louis took a deep sigh and they both started to speak at the same time.

“He left me.”

“What happened?”

Louis hurled himself at the couch. “He gave up on me.”

Liam followed and settled in next to him. “He would never do that,” he tried to reassure him while gently rubbing his shoulder.

“No, he really did.” He took the phone from Liam’s hand, searched for the text message and handed it over to Liam. He read it and kept silent.

He was shaking his head with a frown. “I don’t get it. He was…”

Why did Liam sound like he knew something? Was it a good something or a bad something? - “He was what?”

“Er… nevermind” _OK, definitely need to know what he meant by that reference._

“Li, please don’t do this. Give me something. Anything. He was what?”

“Well I know that Anne visited him yesterday but that doesn’t mean--”

Louis immediately imagined a conversation in his head where Harry was getting a talking to from Anne about how he needed to suck it up, stand up and continue living his life. “ The timing of the last message was even more clear now. He stopped wanting me.” he whispered under his nose.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“What do I know anymore Liam? We broke up. Would you have predicted that? We haven’t spoken in weeks. Would you have predicted that? He started losing weight and getting depressed. Would you have predicted that? So he gave up on me, it’s not like I didn’t consider it a possibility. I just didn’t see it coming so soon and Anne’s visit… it sounds like it may have inspired him to send me the last message”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want both of you to be okay.”

He landed at Luton two days later. He was accompanied by Liam, Niall and Zayn. Harry could’ve stayed in Florida, or already headed to L.A. He didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know. He had always known, he was… he _was_ his boyfriend and he had always known. He didn’t have the right anymore and he hated it.

Zayn had invited him to stay at his place until… _until Harry asked him to move the fuck out of their home._ No, he didn’t dare think about how long he would be staying at Zayn’s.

He'd had a talk with him, and early afternoon Liam had come over as well, listened to them talk for a while, and then begged for some game time. So they'd played FIFA afterwards, Zayn and Liam exchanging glances, making it even more clear that the main purpose was to lighten Louis’ sad mood or at the very least distract him from his heartbreak. These distractions worked for a minute, if that, because he was automatically thinking about him again.  His brain was a constant stream of _Harry_ and it could not be silenced.

Niall showed up in the evening so they'd all ended up gathered in Zayn’s big entertainment room, but it didn’t matter how big it was, they all still snuggled into the same couch.

The conversation started off a bit awkward, it had lost its easy flow ever since him and Harry had brought tension into the group. There was a sharing of stories, but it seemed like Harry’s name was purposefully omitted from them and instead got replaced with “ _me and my friend_ ”, “ _there was someone who_ ” or “ _so this little girl came up to us and started pulling the long hair of.. my friend_ ” and based on their not so subtle alarmed reactions Louis could pretty much guarantee that this ‘friend’ was indeed Harry.

He didn’t laugh much, but there was a tentative smile forming on his lips a few times throughout the day and he counted that as a victory.

 

**October 10th**

Zayn was lovely company and easy to live with, but he wasn’t Harry. His bed wasn’t the one that he loved, his house was different, the colors, the rooms, even the noises, and the smells. It was nothing like Harry’s scented candles that had made even the coldest and ugliest of hotel rooms feel like home.

The only people he'd been talking to were his mates. Not even his family. He didn’t have the courage to tell them what happened. If Anne was in the know, then most likely his family already knew as well. He was ashamed. No, he didn’t have the strength to stand in front of his mother and tell her what happened.

The Tomlinson-Deakins were so involved with Harry, they had formed a huge tangled web of a family. Formed. Past tense. There were still times when he had to remind himself to use past tense instead of present. _Oh, god how would he ever be able to tell his family?_ That there would be no more Harry around. Doris and Ernest would never again have him to play with - him and those crazy-crazy games that popped from his even crazier head-scarved head whenever they were visiting in Doncaster. His mum would never be able to cook dinner with Harry while Louis hugged him from behind, being the lazy ass he was. Lottie loved him like family, same as Fiz, the twins and the babies. He'd taken Harry from them too.

He had fucking taken the best future son-in-law away from his mum.  

 

**October 13th**

Some days it was easier to just drink and wallow in self pity, but then other days he knew that this had to end and he had to make a plan about how his life would go on.

On one of the bad days the doorbell rang, and he figured it would be Zayn coming back having forgotten something; the other day he'd came back for his car keys before driving off to his mums. 

He opened the door, and the moment his mind registered his visitor, his heart clenched.

“Mum?” his surprised voice started cracking.

“Oh, honey!” She hugged him tight, caressing his back. She backed slightly out of the embrace to have a good look at her son. It didn’t take long for her eyes to dampen with tears.

“Mum, what are y - how d- how did you know?” and if Louis was was not cracking previously, seeing his mum cry undoubtedly made his own tears spill over.

“Baby, I could feel your pain from a continent away. I might have seven kids but a mum knows.. A mum knows honey” - she held him in a long tight embrace again.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry mum.” The tears streaming from his eyes were leaving a transparent patch on his mum’s white blouse.

“Ssssh” came Jay’s reply as she continued to caress her son reassuringly.

He took her in and led her to the living room. He made a cuppa for them, then retreated back to sitting on the couch beside her. The hot liquid felt amazing. They both sipped it, Louis dreading what was coming next. His mum spoke up, just as he knew she would.

“What’s the biggest obstacle? Why can’t you forgive him baby?” she went straight for the toughest question.

“I…”

He son struggled to reply.

“If the answer takes this long to come, honey, maybe you need to ask yourself if you can live your life without forgiving him. You are both young, and it hurts now, I know, it hurts like hell, but after time, it will hurt less and less.” - she stopped to take a deep breath - “There is a chance both of you will find new partners. Are you ready to see him with a new man? Are you ready to see him settled down, married? Having kids..?” - Jay seemed to analyze every small muscle movement on his face She knew that once she mentioned "married, settled and kids", Louis would realize he would never be able to fully let Harry go. He couldn’t still share their lives being in the same band and not hear about these things at some point in time. He would be bound to know when Harry had moved on and he needed to decide if that was something he could live with.. “Can you live with the thought that it all happened because you weren’t able to forgive him for one mistake?”

Louis felt all the blood leave his face at the thought of Harry and another man.

"Because if you say yes I swear to God I’m going to support your decision and have Dan help you move out. If you want to come back home, we’d love to have you again and of course you know you’re welcome. I’m going to support your decision no matter what. I’m going to support you honey but I can’t sit back and watch your emotions eat you alive from the inside.”

She let it all sink in knowing that Louis needed time for all this to come together in his head. She sat closer to him, knees touching and lifted his chin with soft fingers. For a moment she got lost in those beautiful azure eyes, made brighter by his tears. She remembered when he was just a small boy, how amazing of a son and a big brother he had been, how he'd stuck by her when they'd had to start their lives over from zero. She could always count on him, whether it was by taking extra shifts when money was scarce or by picking up the kids from school, he'd always done it with no question. She couldn’t be more proud of the man her son had become.

She maintained eye contact and continued in a cracking voice.

“But if everything I said scares the shit out of you that’s also okay.”

Louis’ eyes widened at his mum’s choice of words and his eyebrows shot up.

"Mum, language.” he chuckled and the sound of it was almost shocking, so unfamiliar. Something long lost and it felt as if he was watching himself from the outside. When was the last time he'd let himself laugh?

She had a tiny smile upon hearing her son’s teasing. “Louis William Tomlinson. Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

Louis’ reply came as a soft “Yeah.”

Jay changed to a more serious note. “Do you still want him?”

Louis’ reply came instantly, not even giving it a second thought. How could he not love him? “With every fiber of my being.”

His mum didn’t seem surprised at all, she looked as if she was expecting Louis’ answer. “Then fight for him, fight for your love, fight for your future. Start working on getting back the damaged trust. Put your pride and stubbornness aside, you’re supposed to be partners, fighting the same battle, not enemies working against one another. Don’t rush into anything, take it slow. If he wants to be just friends, then accept that. Maybe it will stay a friendship, maybe it will evolve into a relationship again. It might not even work at all, but at least you will have tried.  Just sitting here wallowing in your sadness won’t solve anything though.”

Louis was definitely paying attention, he was. But he couldn’t help his mind putting on replay _It might not even work at all._ He might have lost Harry forever. He had to ask it, he wanted to hear his mum’s take on this. “But what if he doesn’t want to do anything with me?”

“Then keep trying baby, because he has been trying to ask for forgiveness for so long. You have to do exactly the same if not more. And if he says no, then keep fighting. If he closes the door, open up a window.“

“Do you think we could be just friends?”

Jay chewed the inside of her cheek. She peeked at Louis with a raised eyebrow. “Honest or?”

“Honest, always honest.” came Louis’ reply with a strong accent.

She took her time answering, it was visible- the thoughts that passed behind her eyes like shadows. “You are best friends but you’ve never been just friends. I would put it more like: best friends who are in love. Two stupid boys in love who are too blind to see how much they both mean to each other.”

Louis didn’t find the situation this promising, he still couldn’t forgive himself for doing what he had done to Harry, for shutting him out. How could he expect Harry to forgive him when himself was incapable of doing so? “I failed him as a friend.”

“No, baby, no, don’t say such silly things. - Jay shifted closer to him, both her hands on Louis’ cheeks, eyes searching for Louis, ensuring he paid attention to what was coming. When her son’s focus was on her, she continued. “Both of you have cracked under the pressure your life and your love was put under. You have been fighting the battle for almost four years against all odds, baby. Do you really think either of you are to blame for having a bad moment?”

Louis made a vague sound in the back of his throat, newborn tears pricking his eyes. “I still failed him mum.”

“Neither of you failed. Failing would be both of you living your lives as if this separation hadn’t touched either of you. But I see two very sad boys who both made mistakes, and are unable to move on with their lives because they are missing what gave them life in the first place.”

Louis’ jaw muscles jumped as he considered his mother’s words. Would it be possible to have what they had? What if his mum is seeing things differently than Harry? Because Harry did change his mind, right after talking to Anne. Sweet Anne, the same Anne who loved him as her own son. The same Anne had listened to reason and dragged Harry out of the depression.

It was Jay's cue to leave then so she stood up, thanked him for the tea, and headed to the door. Before stepping out onto the threshold, she hugged him and whispered: “ _If you can’t forgive you’d better hope you will never need forgiveness.”_

She kissed her son goodbye then and left.

 

**FOUR PROMO**

The tour had ended weeks ago and the more days that passed without speaking to Harry, the more he felt him slipping through his fingers. Not just as his  lover, but as his friend as well.

They still hadn’t talked and he didn’t know how to approach Harry. The problem was that from the moment they'd first met they were both on the same page, a tight friendship had formed and it had taken only a week to realize they had fallen for one another completely.

That friendship was guaranteed from day one, he didn’t have to fight for it, he didn’t have to pull extra jokes, it just worked, was natural. It just happened. Now, he had to do something extra, something new, something that he wasn’t even sure would work. The time he had spent wallowing in his own self pity had gone on long enough; he had to now find a way to prove himself to Harry.

They had two months of promo ahead of them and Louis had never dreaded a promo season so much. He felt like his future was on the line and that a secret jury would decide his fate. He so desperately wanted to participate in the decision making, but ultimately he didn’t have a say anymore, it was Harry’s call.

They had been called in for a meeting to go through their promotion schedule. A long list of events was placed on the table in front of them and he quickly flicked through the pages frowning upon seeing how busy they would be. There would be days when 10-12 interviews were to be recorded. With all the travelling and rehearsals he wouldn’t have time for anything. The more he looked at the list of events the more apparent it became that finding the chance to squeeze in some time when he and Harry could be alone for a couple of hours would be difficult at best. Throughout the entire meeting he had been trying to catch Harry’s eyes but they never met his, he never once glanced his way. Not even once. Louis was too big of a coward to pursue him further.

The narrative pushed by their team didn't help his case. It's not like he could just jump into the seat next to him and chat him up. They had to be travelling together for that to happen.

Their team hadn't noticed a thing. Nothing. All they cared about were the zeros on their bank account slips, but never about them, not about them as actual people. Thank god it was only a few more months before Modest would fuck off out of their lives forever. He could only hope that him and Harry would be okay by then. _Wouldn't it be a fucking sick joke to finally be free but not be able to act on it?_

They had been arguing for an hour to try to get some days off, which eventually turned out to be an impossibility since they would be on three continents in the following weeks. Their presence at award shows was already guaranteed, which meant that they could only juggle with the timing of their pre-recorded interviews.

Their music video would be shot soon and during this same meeting Ben had presented them with his idea. Louis didn’t like it at all and when he noticed Zayn looking at him with a hidden frown, he knew immediately that he hated this video proposal as well.

The only good thing Louis could find with it was how endearing he imagined Harry would look ice-skating. He stole a glance at Harry but he was busy lost in his thoughts.

After a long running debate their team agreed to give them more free days in exchange of a more stuffed interview day. That was pretty much it, the best they would do. They shouldn't have expected more from their management, they had given that up a long time ago.

The meeting finally ended and all the lads were happily filing from the room, Harry walking next to Zayn. Louis followed them and stealthily tried to get closer to him. When he was behind him, he whispered “Haz” but the young boy either hadn’t heard him or had chosen to ignore him. And fuck if that didn’t hurt. He had to remind himself that it was his on him to prove his love to Harry and put away his stubborn pride.

“Haz” - he whisper-shouted and okay, Liam shouldn’t have heard this, but he had and turned back to him with raised eyebrows. He quickly pointed his finger at Harry as if to signal him that he wanted to talk to him.

Harry tensed, stopped in his tracks, turned to Louis and looked at him with wide expectant eyes.

“Ice-skating. You always wanted that.”

“Yeah, I guess” Harry responded with a frown, stretching his reply. When Louis had imagined this dialogue it had played out slightly different in his head.

“I’ll be driving a sweet looking Aston so that’s cool too.” he added hoping that Harry would be happy for him.

He was nodding a bit too fast to look even the slightest bit interested. “Yes, cool.”

“Liste----”

“What do you want Louis?” Okay they were definitely off script now.

Louis turned hesitant. “Uh...to talk?”

Harry huffed out a breath. “Talking? You? Really?” he snapped angrily, and maybe a bit loud, because his tone was an open invitation for Zayn to not so subtly turn a complete 180 with a frown.

Louis focused his attention back on Harry and gulped. “Please.”

“No.” and if that wasn’t clear enough, he fled out the office, got into his car and drove off.

Louis just stood there frozen still at the entrance. Liam and Zayn were within his periphery so he could see them as they approached him with their expressions of sad puppy dogs. And thanks but no thanks, he didn’t need that right now.

“He’ll come around” Liam’s consolation was well-intended, but far too cliche. The way Harry had just spoken to him made him feel as if it would be a long ass  road for Louis towards winning his friendship back.

He didn’t want to look at his friends’ sorry faces anymore, so he quickly said his goodbyes and got into his car.

 

**October 29th**

Their first appearance in the mile long list of promotion time was an interview with Scott.  He was one of the reporters that they genuinely liked and could usually have a good time with.

Unfortunately, with his and Harry’s current situation, nothing was easy anymore. They arrived late to the studio because fans were tailing them so they’d had to use back roads. His attempt to talk to Harry before the interview had been absolutely destroyed by this.

If fact, in the last few days he had been trying and trying but Harry was always very tense with him. Louis certainly hadn’t expected for weeks to pass by without them taking a step ahead and he couldn't help but feel that instead of getting back a crumb of their friendship, they’d taken two steps back.

After a shome small talk with Scott, they sat down on the big couch, Harry on the other end. It was tricky because the entire room was full of Management, so he had to behave and avoid risking things with saying anything too reckless. Things like making eye contact with Harry too many times was unacceptable to their team so he had to be careful.

There were a couple of instances though, when he could openly stare at him, basically every time he spoke. His smile quickly faded once he realized after his third attempt that Harry would not look back at him.

Louis was the first one to walk out of the room after shaking hands with Scott and two more assistants.

So this is how it would be then: tense and awkward. Wonderful.

_Welcome to promo season kids. Two months of heart wrenching pain, yeah!_

The following few appearances didn't bring about any changes. Louis started to wonder what hurt more - Having Harry in the same room as him and being ignored or not having him there at all.

There were some awkward instances when they’d HAD to speak to each other but apart from that Harry managed to fully ignore him. It was like he wasn’t there at all and being invisible was a new level of pain.

It was too much for Louis.

 

**November 23rd**

The hardest day yet was the AMA'S when they had to perform Night Changes for the first time on national television. He kept looking up, as if begging someone to abduct him, take him out of his misery, because listening to another song _they_ wrote about _their_ very love was some kind of twisted joke.

He hadn't given up though and had been working his mind 24/7 how he could have Harry sit down with him and convince him to hear him out.

 

**November 25th**

He landed in Sydney and memories immediately flooded his mind. He had always loved Australia. Each color was a bit brighter, even the sun shined a little brighter here. He couldn't help but to breathe in the beautiful atmosphere, the clean air and take in the wonderful people. He may have  smiled for the first time here, albeit a small one.

He was walking down Bondi Beach in the dark, taking in the beautiful smell and sounds of the sea. Sea. Nautical. _Harry._ He couldn’t escape him even from the other end of the world. He doubted he ever would. As it turned darker, Alberto and him walked back to the hotel, reaching the shops closeby. Louis looked at them, seeing one that had nautical graffitis on the adjoining wall; that was when it hit him and knew what he wanted to do. Maybe it wouldn't give Harry back, but he _had_ to do it, had to try something since words weren’t an option.

 

**November 27th**

He was third in the line that day. He shook the hands of the artist, then was ushered to a waiting area to sit down while he was finishing up the last touches on a client. He quickly grabbed the book and looked for the perfect sketch. He had an idea how he wanted it to look, but the artist’s drawings gave him an even better grasp of the perfect result.

Fifteen minutes later the artist came to him asking if he’d found something he liked or if he had any picture of what he had in mind.

He showed the two sketches to him and explained a couple of changes that the artist all approved of. Zayn had been watching him closely but, Louis flat out  ignored him and avoided eye contact. Thankfully, whatever comment Zayn had, he kept to himself.

After the sketch was on his arm and he’d given the artist happy enthusiastic confirmation, the gun came in contact with his skin. It was all familiar from then: the smell of the ink and the pain. All he could think about was how right this felt, how he needed one more thing to connect himself to Harry. Zayn was working with the other artist, getting his hand tattoo finished after months of having it planned out so Louis was able to simply focus on the pain and let himself get lost in memories, drifting off in a light sleep.

When they got back to the hotel, they headed towards the VIP lobby to grab something to drink. He was happily chatting with Zayn when his friend halted. Louis looked around and to his surprise Harry and Liam were sitting at one of the tables. He stopped in his tracks and looked at Zayn pleadingly, who ignored his silent pleas and started in the direction of the other lads. He used all the telepathic jinx he could think of, begging him not to approach them. _Dammit!_ Zayn was not listening to him; he had tunnel vision, apparently on a mission to show his tattoo to Liam. Louis decided to linger close to the barstools, waiting for Zayn, far from Harry and Liam but enough to hear what they spoke about. He ordered a drink and was lost in his thoughts when he got dragged out of his daze by the sound of heels getting louder and louder.

From the periphery of his vision, he could see Harry approaching his direction. He looked around with a confused expression, because there was no way Harry would seek him out for a chat. He would be a fool to hope for it based on how closed off he had acted with him ever since Louis had been trying to reignite their friendship. If he was coming his way , this would be the first time Harry was the one actually initiating anything. Although he would probably just go past him and he was an actual fool for having false hope..

Harry held eye contact with him, pace still determined as he walked up to him. He stopped three feet from him. Louis felt paralyzed from his intense stare and all he could do was to wait for what was about to happen.

Harry raised one hand in a quick motion, but instead of a hug, a kiss, or anything remotely close, he grabbed Louis’ wrist and ugh, that hurt. It took him 5 seconds to realize why it hurt.

_OH. FUCK!_

_The bandage._

“What’s this?” Harry asked, holding his wrist in a firm grip, each word dripping with venom.

Louis didn’t dare respond, he was avoiding Harry’s gaze as best as he could, and trying not to let his body give him away. The truth was, he really wanted to wrap his arms around him and press their lips together but it was crystal clear that was not on Harry’s agenda.

“I asked you something, Lou. What _is_ this?” he demanded, the words barely escaping through his gritted teeth. He was furiously scanning Louis’s face as if he could pull the answer from him with just his eyes.

He had known he would have to tell Harry sometime, but he was not prepared to give him answers when he had just come back from the tattoo parlor.

“A dagger.” it came out of his lips in a powerless whisper.

Harry’s body tensed immediately, his hands letting Louis’ wrist drop so fast that Louis felt throbbing pain as his sore skin got in contact with the bandage. He flinched at that and Harry took a step back to have a better look at him.

His emerald pools were wide when he spoke. “Why?” he asked in a strangled voice.

_How will you be able to ever understand how much it means to me? How much you mean to me?_

“Because I wanted it.”

Harry grew visibly agitated at Louis’ simplistic answers. “Why did you want it?” he demanded through gritted teeth.

Louis felt protective of his new tattoo. He already felt attached to it and didn’t want anyone to claim it as a mistake or as something forbidden that he shouldn’t get to have. Only one person had a say in it besides him and that person was standing directly in front of him with so much anger radiating off his body and his voice so strained that it left him shaking. Harry scared the shit out of him. “Because it’s important, ok? It’s important to me.” Louis tone turned desperate.

“You can’t do this anymore.” Harry was using a carefully controlled tone now and it felt worse than being shouted at.

“It’s my body.”

“It’s OUR tattoo.” He raised his voice and then looked around anxiously, probably realizing that the VIP lobby of their hotel was not the best place to discuss this. Fortunately, the few people close by looked lost in important business meetings over their phones, not paying them any attention.  In contrast Zayn’s and Liam’s faces screamed that they had been busted.

Louis shook his head, trying to snap himself back to the conversation because he definitely had something unfinished to say. He had to admit he hadn’t considered that Harry might get upset when he saw the tattoo for the first time. But now, looking at the displeasure written all over Harry’s face, Louis feel so small.

“I wanted it, okay?” he had to clear his throat because his voice was shaken with embarrassment.

Harry’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. “But why did you want it?” his eyes were  squinting.

Louis dragged his hands up and down his face, every inch of skin rippling under his palms. He took a deep breath and just went with it. “Because I’m trying to be your friend, and I miss our old friendship, you know?” - he was  desperately searching Harry’s face for any kind of approval, but he kept his face neutral. _Fuck_. He had to explain to him why he'd done it but he wasn’t sure he could put it into words. It just felt right. He NEEDED IT. Harry was clearly waiting for some kind of explanation which was understandable, but he seemed unwilling to accept Louis’ motives. - “I know it sounds stupid but it felt right. I felt like I could maybe have you closer to me if I got the dagger. “

Harry’s face was utterly scandalized. Louis felt embarrassed, felt instantly rejected by Harry’s reaction. _Why is it so difficult to understand that I care about you? That I will care about you forever? That I would lov--._ _NO!_ He couldn’t go there just yet. He couldn’t think about the future without Harry. He had to grasp onto the hope that a miracle would happen and everything between them would be fine.  He looked up at Harry and realized that he had been left alone, Harry nowhere in sight. He kicked the barstool in frustration and stomped out of the lobby.

Three hours had passed since their incident in the lobby, but he still couldn’t forget look on Harry’s face when he'd heard Louis’ reasoning of why he'd gotten the dagger tattoo. He felt restless, pacing his room, brain on overdrive.

He waited until after dinner to muster the courage to talk to him. This time he had nothing to lose and that was the point when he convinced himself, and walked down the couple of metres to Harry’s room.  He knocked on his door without any hesitation and waited.

Harry appeared moments later and _holy shit_. He was half naked, wet curls in a tangled mess, water dripping down to his shoulders. Harry’s eyes widened as soon as his brain registered that it was Louis standing in his door.

The smell of Harry’s musky lemon Pinaud Clubman after shave clouded his brain for a moment.  He had to force himself out of his daze, he shouldn’t imagine Harry all wet and naked, waterdrops running down his body, lingering at his navel, then the brave ones going further to--- NO, FUCK.

He had to stop thinking about this. He didn’t come here to fuck it all up by intimidating him. He'd come to talk to him, to try to save whatever he could with him. If it was only friendship then it was friendship, but he was sick of getting rejected constantly. He remembered his mum’s words: _“_ _if he says no, then keep fighting. If he closes the door, open up a window.“_

“Louis..?” Harry sounded unsure but his eyes told a different story. His gaze was intense, it crawled under Louis’ skin and he felt as if all his thoughts were out in the open for Harry to see and maybe knock down.

He didn’t feel comfortable with his high pitched voice giving him away, so he just nodded instead at Harry’s invitation.

Harry led him in and Louis walked to the center of the room. He felt a bit lost so he shifted his tank top about, looking for anything to keep himself occupied. He caught Harry’s gaze, who upon realizing he was caught quickly turned his head away, and was mumbling something that sounded like “just a sec”, heading to what Louis suspected was the dresser. He came back wearing an old holey band t-shirt. Thank god.

“Sorry, I... didn’t.. want to just come uninvited but..”

“Yeah, no. It’s.. it’s okay.” came Harry’s reply in a deep voice. He cleared his throat then and looked at Louis expectantly. Harry’s long fingers went up to run through his damp hair, then he sniffled his nose, both nervous habits. Louis' heart was beating so fast he swore his t-shirt gave it away.

“Okay. Can we - do you want to…maybe hang out?” Louis didn’t look at Harry’s eyes, too worried about his answer.  His gaze was fixated instead on the shelf behind Harry’s shoulders.

Harry didn’t reply to his question immediately, and Louis began to feel embarrassed again for hoping for too much too soon. He was taking unconscious steps back as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“We can..like.. hang out.. I guess.” Which okay, might sound like an invitation, but his answer came a bit too slow for Louis to get back his confidence in full. But hey, this was a sort of yes so who was he to complain?

“Okay. Okay, yeah. What would you like to do?” He knew it had been his idea, but he wanted to give Harry some control.

“You mean now? Er.. actually I - I didn’t know you would like... come over and I had plans for later…” he looked at Louis and upon seeing the defeated expression on his face he quickly added - “but I can cancel.”  

Louis was so grateful, he couldn’t help himself and risked a tiny smile at Harry. Apparently the younger boy didn’t feel like smiling back and Louis took that as his cue to lower his expectations.

At that, Harry took his phone and called someone, presumably to cancel. All Louis could hear was “ _Hi - Listen I’ve got some”  -_ he took a quick glance at Louis then added - ” _I’ve got something that came up last minute. - Thanks man - No, I can't tell you now. - Yeah - I will. - Bye_.”

What couldn’t he tell him? And it was a him, he was sure of that. Who was he? Louis felt a sharp pang of jealousy at hearing that Harry was talking to some other guy, who he obviously had plans with and wanted to spend time with. That person used to be him, but it wasn’t anymore and the pain of that realization was intense.

Now Louis felt even crappier because not only had he come unexpectedly but he was also messing with Harry’s plans, taking away the possibility of him spending time with people he actually wanted to hang out with.

Harry set his phone on the coffee table and looked expectantly at Louis.

“You shouldn’t have cancelled. I mean, I should have asked if you had time, sorry.” he rubbed his hands along the top of his legs just to have something to do.

“No, it’s okay.”

Louis just nodded.

He took a quick tour of Harry’s room with his eyes and saw the bathroom door open, steam still coming out.  Next he checked the coffee table and saw the Charles Bukowski book that he had given to him as a present. It was a first edition from an antique book store and he remembered that he'd had to specifically search for and make a special drive to Colchester to get it.

Harry had loved it so much that he kept putting colored post it’s in it, writing private little notes on them all the time. It was the perfect gift really.

“I finished it.” Harry nodded towards to book.

“Oh, I didn’t know..” as soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to kick himself in the ass and bang his head against the wall. "Sorry, how could I… sorry.” he added with a frown. Smooth, how could he know anything when he was the one refusing to acknowledge Harry’s existence for weeks?!

 _Fuck why was this so hard?_ It wasn’t like Harry wasn’t answering or such, but it felt forced, it felt unnatural. He was so stupid to expect that things would miraculously turn better in a matter of days and obviously this was not going to be the case. He was such a fool.

His legs were on autopilot, as he started to retreat back, his eyes felt damp from embarrassment. He grumbled “Sorry I.. I don’t kow why.. I .. yeah.. sorry, this was a stupid idea. Good night Harry.” Louis turned towards the exit, but Harry followed him with a single step and grabbed his wrist. His right wrist thank god, there was still some throbbing pain in his left arm. Louis stopped and looked down at his wrist which was firmly held by Harry. They looked at each other for a moment, neither of them moving or speaking.

“Don’t go.” he whispered, his eyes looking down, but then he raised his head and Louis cursed himself at Harry’s unreadable expression.

Louis just looked at him, too many questions running through his mind. Was he asking him not to go because he felt embarrassed? Didn't he regret cancelling his plans? He hung his head low, ears burning from embarrassment.

Harry took a deep breath. “Can we just.. just lay down and like… not talk?” Louis raised his head, surprise clearly written on his face. He didn't expect Harry to let him stay. “I’m not ready to talk.” Harry added just to make it clearer.

“Okay.” Not talking while laying down together sounded a hell of a lot better than not talking from separate rooms. Just sharing breathing space and having his body near his was a step in the right direction and there was no way Louis could refuse.

They both walked over to the king size bed, absentmindedly approaching it and taking their usual sides. Old habits die hard.

Louis lay down first, made sure that his left hand is safely placed on his belly. He clatched his other arm under his head. Harry followed and laid down in slow motion. Even though they weren’t laying close together, he felt the heat radiating off Harry’s body.

It was hard being in the same room and not touching. Why the fuck did he think that laying in the same bed as him was a smart idea?

His mind was swamped with memories, how they'd loved being lazy in bed all day, how they’d just talked about everything for hours. Harry had even told an interviewer once that one of his favorite places was his bed. _Their bed_. Louis knew everything about Harry and beds. Sharing breakfasts, sleeping in whenever they had a chance, both of them on their respective sides, then waking up tangled together.

He remembered how they made sweet love, smiling at each other, then laughing so hard that their kisses turned sloppy. Teasing and making a game of driving each other to the edge. Greens focused on blue so intently that Louis had felt on the top of the world. Harry keeping up a slow rhythm that drove him crazy, always stopping in the last moment, then whispering sweet nothings into Louis’ ears, his breath landing hot on his earlobes driving him crazy. H remembered how he needed his mouth on him, so he’d forced him to kiss him, and Harry just laughed, enjoying the teasing part a bit too much. Louis was complaining and rushing on a strangled voice “Haz fuck, get to the point dammit” because he hated how he played with him, but secretly he loved every second of it. He had loved being the center of Harry’s world. He loved how Harry had shattered him into a million pieces and how he'd put him back together as one afterwards.

Then there were the times when they didn't need anything sweet. He smiled at himself at how those times usually hadn’t come at the most convenient of times, meaning in the middle of interviews, or their own shows. After four years, Harry could still get him aroused with a simple touch, a suggestive look, a blowjob innuendo, a swipe of his tongue with a suggestive look or simply by bouncing around on stage, being his beautiful carefree self. They weren't afraid of using every opportunity to rush off the rooms and stage to destroy each other. Those times it wasn't sweet or loving, it was pure desire, primal instincts, both of them lost in each other just wanting to get off. They had never been able to contain themselves, they'd been so aroused, attacking each other's clothes, buttons, trousers and zips. They were bodies crashing in changing rooms, restrooms, against walls or even on the floor.

Fuck. He had a semi now just from thinking about it.

This was so not on. He couldn't think about making love to Harry while he lay beside him for the first time in weeks, too far apart to touch. They weren’t there yet, maybe they never would be. All they had was a fragile connection at best. It was a stretch to even call it friendship yet.

Harry, true to his word, didn’t talk at all. They’d laid there for hours instead, both having so much to say to each other but neither of them saying anything at all. At one point they both started drifting off to sleep, Louis surely woke up when his room was dark. He stood up slowly, took a look at Harry's peaceful face, ignored the tears welling up in their eyes, _god, he loved that man with everything he had_.

When he closed the door to Harry's room he felt hope blooming in his chest because Harry hadn’t sent him away. He’d cancelled his plans and true, they hadn’t talked at all, but laying next to him was quite a bit more than he could’ve hoped for. Harry didn’t seem to hate him, so that was great. Talking could happen later.

He filed that day away as a good one, the best one in a long while. Baby steps perhaps, but all in the right direction.

 

**December 14th**

He'd missed the arena, missed Wembley and being on a big stage. Missed the high the big crowds gave him, the anticipation of their performance, the adrenaline rush and even the worry of missing his lines or not hitting his notes. Every performance was a big performance, but this was easily their biggest yet.

It was different this time, because they'd had to perform a song close to their hearts: another song written by Harry dedicated to their love. Sadness took over him the moment it was revealed that they would be singing ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go’. It was Harry’s song, Harry’s song written for Louis during the Taylor stunt. That song was Harry’s apology for that shitstorm, and how fucking ironic was it that now it was him who had to apologize? It was a love song, but the upbeat tune made it feel less so. He knew without a doubt that he would crack if they had to sing ‘18’ so at least he should be grateful for small victories. He had a very telling part in ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go’, the most heartbreaking line in the entire song:  ' _tell me 'cause I'm ten feet down!_ ' So fitting to his current position with Harry.

It had been amazing. They'd killed it, received a standing ovation. They had done it, they not JUST did it, but they literally smashed it. Everything was perfect and amazing. _Fuck! That’s why he loved this_.

The performance passed in a blur, he just let it all go on the stage. After they had a group hug, and if he gave Harry an extra pat on the back, holding onto him like a lifeline, well, hopefully no one noticed and besides, could anyone really blame him? They rushed off the stage with Niall and Zayn both jumping on his back. He was cracking under the pressure of their weight, all of them laughing like kids.

They made their way through the familiar corridors, entering the room with '1D' lazily hung on colored paper. He took off his t-shirt and had a celebratory dance with his silliest moves, the adrenaline from their show obviously still not wearing down. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, instinct telling him to turn around, which he did, just in time to witness Liam entering the room followed by Harry. He felt instantly on guard being near Harry, so he quickly approached the huge hanger where all of their clothes had been prepared by Caroline, grabbed his softest sweater, then found cover while he changed into his trousers.

He looked at Liam first and then Harry, both ignoring him, lost in a silent conversation. _Weird_. Although if he really thought about it, it wasn’t weird at all. He’d lost the privilege of being the recipient of Harry's silent thoughts.  He missed the way they were able to have full conversations with their eyes, never needing words.

He patted Liam on the back and his hand was just about to reach Harry's back when he decided it was better not to touch and snatched it back.

"Well done lads, we smashed it! I'm gonna go grab a cuppa, see you later!"

Okay that went well. That was fine. Everything was fine. The sooner he left the room, the sooner his heart beat would return to normal.

He was pacing the corridors, swearing out loud why the hell he couldn't find the kitchen when he could really use that cuppa right now. He swore he was walking in circles when he turned left round the corner trying to catch a hold of Alberto and instead bumped into a body. An all too familiar smell, and fuck… he looked up slowly. It was Harry. They stared at each other, a bit in shock and both at a loss of words.  Again.

"Er.. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to --" Harry started to apologize but he really shouldn't have because it was Louis' fault after all.

"No. It's fine. I wasn’t looking up and..." He didn't know if there was any sense in explaining it further.

"Actually I.." Harry rubbed his neck and… Louis could swear he looked nervous. Why was he nervous? "I wanted to.. like.. to thank you."

Louis' eyebrows shot up to his forehead. "Thank me for what?" Was Harry mocking him or what was happening here? His tone certainly didn't sound like mocking, more like nervous.

Harry frowned and bit his upper lip and fuck Louis if his gaze didn’t linger, following every movement of Harry's tongue. Harry seemed to realize and shook his head as if to keep himself on task. "For switching, you know."

And no, Louis didn't know. He felt like he was missing the punchline to a joke now. "Harry, what are you talking about?"

Harry's eyes widened and he mumbled with a frown "you like.. switched mic stands with me?” - he phrased it as a question, the frown growing deeper on his face - “.. so I could stand next to Ronnie."

 _Oh that_. _So that had really happened?_   He started to remember flickers of their performance. It wasn’t just his mind playing games with him. He’d really changed mic stands with Harry during a live show watched by millions of people. Fuck, he would definitely be receiving a lecture from Management about it.

He was jarred out of his daze by Harry's discreet cough and oh, where was he again?

"It's alright." He didn't know what to say. What did Harry expect from him? Was there a  correct response? Well, of course he had switched mic stands with him. Of course he had. It had been a dream of Harry’s to perform with a member of The Rolling Stones and of course he would want to help his boy live out his dream. The thing was, Harry wasn’t his boy anymore and now switching mic stands with him had become a thing and he didn’t really want it to be a thing. But it was and apparently Harry was expecting him to say something back about it and he didn’t know what the hell to say.  After another moment of hesitation he added - "That's what friends are for."

The disappointment that flashed across Harry's face upon hearing those words was more than a little nerve-wrecking. Fuck, did he offend him?! Did he go too far calling this fragile thing they had a friendship? Judging by Harry’s expression, it seemed like it and he wanted to slap himself in the face for it.

"Yeah," muttered Harry, something seeming off.

Louis was thinking hard about what had caused this sudden wall to be built up between them when it had seemed that they were moving in the right direction. He wanted to smash it, destroy it, do whatever it took to see a smile directed to him on Harry’s face again. Whatever chance he may have had before felt lost to him now.

"Wha-what?" _What’s going on Harry?_

Harry kept eye contact for a small second then dropped his gaze.

"Nothing." _This was awkward_. How did it get awkward again? "Okay. I-I have to get back."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." His frown just grew deeper as he watched Harry’s retreating body.

 

**December 24th**

Christmas Eve used to be the best day of his life. Used to be. Of all the days to be alone, Christmas and birthdays were really the worst.

He had turned 23 today.

The whole day haunted him with memories, of how they'd started their days, Harry jumping on him asking him to wake up, because it was Lou day, then later in the afternoon he would say it was Christmas Eve. He'd always made sure Louis didn’t feel shit for having his birthday on Dec 24th.

He recollected memories of how they’d decorated their home, their home. The home he hadn’t entered in months.

This was the first Christmas in years he had to spend apart from Harry. Not that his family wasn’t a great host, but he wanted Harry.

He desperately wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas, but even more than that, he wanted them to reach another level in their friendship. He'd kept telling himself they would be okay, but one month had passed since project _win Harry back_ had begun and they still hadn’t gotten back their usual flow, their easy banter. They were just Harry and Louis, not HarryandLouis anymore.

It was a horrible feeling being stuck in limbo between nothing and possible future friends. Never knowing how much was too much or when it wasn’t enough. They had never had any issues with this in the past, everything had come so naturally for them.  Not for the first time, Louis wished that there was a guide book of sorts to help him navigate through this mess he’d made.  

He took a deep breath and dialled Harry’s number, wondering if he would even pick up.

“Hi.” Harry’s deep voice breathed through the line. Did he sound happy to hear from him or sad or annoyed? Louis couldn’t tell. Fuck, he used to know everything about Harry. He hated being so powerless, he hated that he had to analyze every single word Harry said to him. Why is everything so hard?

“Hi.”   _Brilliant start.  Literally wowing him at hello_. He should give out dating advice. If singing didn’t work out, maybe he would.

“So I just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas.” he forced out. Fuck, he wanted to hit something, because it sounded so lame.

“Thanks.” _Okay, wow_. He wasn’t giving much and well, that hurt but wasn’t exactly unexpected. It was time to speak up now, to fight for their love. Just like his Mum had said.

“Listen Harry, would you lik-----” - there was a loud crack coming from the other end of the line before he could get the words out. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Sorry, it was the saucepan, it.. er.. it fell from my hands.”

_That’s surprising._

“Oh, aren't you at Ed's?" came his surprised question.  

“Er... no.” Harry replied but his voice sounded odd.

“Where are you then?"

“In LA?" And was this a question or an answer?

“But your family is in Holmes Chapel?"

“Yeah."

“You shouldn't be alone on Christmas." whispered Louis. 

“I'm not."

“Oh." his voice was so weak and powerless.  _Talk about casual_.

Louis started to have a bad feeling. He so wanted to ask if someone was coming over and wanted to know who that someone was.  

Harry was quiet for a moment then added after a deep sigh “Yeah. Did you need something, Lou?”

He froze. Someone was coming over, _someone._ As in a man. Coming over. On Christmas Eve..? And he didn't want to tell him who this someone was. No, it couldn’t fucking be a guy. Fuck! IT COULD NOT FUCKING BE ANOTHER GUY!

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. He felt the blood leaving his face, nausea hitting him hard. Harry with another man. Jesus Christ. He couldn’t fucking see him with another man. He wasn’t capable of that!

“N-no, er Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“You too.”

“Thanks.”

He ended the call and he was lucky he reached the toilet just in time to empty his stomach. Twice.

**

He couldn’t keep the images out of his head, Harry with another man looking lovingly at one another, laughing, being flirty, touching, kissing, grinding on each other, fucking.  Making love.  Jesus Christ, Louis was gonna be sick again.  Another man taking his place, receiving Harry's caresses, his kisses, everything Louis used to get. The visuals were so real and he couldn’t let them go, couldn’t unsee them, still couldn’t breathe. He wanted Harry to know that he loved him. He wanted Harry to know that he had a boy waiting for him if he was willing to take him back.

He dialled his number again, determined to step up, be a man and say it out loud.

“ _Hello you’ve reached Harry… erm.. you know what to do.. if you don’t, then did you hear what happens when two pancakes meet in the desert?_ “

 _Voicemail_.

 _So Harry didn’t want to talk to him anymore_. He was too busy making dinner for another man.

The beep came and he was just breathing heavily, gathering up all of his courage to speak.

“I’m so sor--” - okay this is not how he planned it, his choking voice made it impossible to get out what he wanted to say - ”I’m so fucking sorry Harry. - he paused. - “I miss you so much, I miss you every day. I wish it didn’t hurt this bad. I look at my body and all I see is you, my compass isn’t working anymore, my rope is broken, and my dagger goes into my own heart instead.”

His body was shaking and he had to stop for a moment and take a deep breath -  “I- I can’t function without you, I just c-can’t and really, I tried to be your friend, I did my damnedest to be your friend, I tried to forget what I felt, I tried to not listen to my heart, but it hurt more, the something hurts more than the nothing.” - he wiped his face as his tears rolled down his chin - “It hurts so fucking much that I can only stay in the room with you when I’m at the other end because I just want to touch you and feel you all the time. But getting only something from you is exactly that. It’s just something but never enough. Because I want everything and I had everything, I had it and I lost it because I was so fucking stubborn and now I lost my lover, my best friend, my partner, my fian-” he couldn’t say it out loud, he just couldn’t. He’d never felt himself such a lost case as he did right then. If he said it out loud then would be final and he really didn’t want it to be final.

His body let go then, slowly sliding down the bed, his bum landing on the cold tiles. He deserved cold, he deserved everything bad for fucking up the only thing that ever mattered in his life.

He gathered strength from some deep place within his mind  and he found the courage to continue, to finish his confession - “m-my f-fiance. I can’t believe I let you go. I’m so sorry baby, I can’t. - he sniffled - “I can’t pretend anymore. I’m not your bloody friend. I can’t just be that. I can’t. ” he shook his head as if Harry could see him, and of course he wasn’t because he wasn’t just on another continent, but on another planet altogether. “I love you so bloody much.” added in a whisper.

He couldn’t see through his tears, he just hit his screen and he could only hope he hadn’t fucked everything up  even more with this confession.

 

**December 31st**

A week had passed and it was New Years Eve already. He wanted to dig a hole into the ground and disappear because Harry hadn't responded to the voicemail that he’d left. He was invited to Niall’s for his usual party and he couldn't skip it; it had been a tradition of theirs for the past four years. He had tried to come up with a good excuse, but Zayn had seen straight through him and there was not a chance in hell he was letting him skip New Year's Eve.

They had always celebrated it at Niall’s. The difference this year, though, was that him and Harry had always attended it as a couple, and now that they were only on semi-friendly terms, this would be a huge fucking test of Louis’ self-control.

The house was crammed with people. Many of them were Niall’s Irish friends, but they had also invited the band members, close friends and some good people from their crew. They had partied with them often in the years since One Direction was formed, so it was quite an intimate gathering. No pictures, no press. Everyone knew them, they were just regular lads rather than famous celebrities and that was the way they liked it.

Upon entering the house Louis was offered beer, wine, tequila, and even one of those fancy colored cocktails, but he refused them all. He had decided not to drink a drop of alcohol that night. Since it was a party and there would obviously be alcohol involved, he'd had to come up with the perfect excuse. He mentioned to a few people what an annoying migraine he’d been having since that morning and also that he'd taken some medicine and that seemed to be enough.

When it was close to midnight, the music was lowered, and people started chanting (or some shouting) the countdown. Some were so drunk that they had started kissing their partners way early. Way too fucking early. KISSING. _Fuck. Kissing_.

For a moment Louis froze, looking around for the emeralds instinctively. Their gazes locked, Harry standing on the other end of the room. Fuck, what if he kissed that man he had been cooking for at midnight? Hell, Louis knew nothing about his life anymore, what the fuck would he do if Harry had someone he wanted to be with already? Someone who wasn’t him? He didn’t see him acting intimately with anyone, but he knew he was well versed in keeping things low key. Harry, like him, had the unfortunate experience of being severely closeted. Couple that with with top notch security and the means to keep a secret and anything was possible.

Louis didn’t want to see him kiss anyone. Not here, not anywhere really, but please God, not when was  at the same fucking party. He wouldn’t do that, would he? They’d only just finally surpassed the awkwardness that the two of them not speaking to each other had caused the other lads.  And okay, so maybe they hadn’t become the best of friends yet, but Harry more than tolerated him which Louis still counted as a small victory. Maybe that was the most he should’ve hoped  for, and he would take as much of Harry as he was willing to give him, but he still desperately wanted more. He needed him in his life, still loved him with all his heart, but Harry hadn’t given any signs that he wanted to start things over. Louis wasn’t ready to let him go, and while he’d lost him as a lover, he wasn’t willing to risk their fragile friendship by being jealous or overstepping boundaries. He had no right anymore to expect anything from Harry. He had no right wishing that Harry would be here alone, or not have anyone new to kiss, but that didn’t stop him from wishing it anyway.

His mouth turned sour at the thought of Harry with another guy and he looked at him pleadingly while they maintained eye contact, silently begging him _Please please don’t kiss anyone tonight, please, it would rip my heart out_.  Harry’s expression was indecipherable, and when it turned midnight, paper trumpets were blown, Year 2015 was shouted, there was chanting, screaming and people kissing.

_Everyone was kissing someone._

He got tossed around through the sea of people, his eyes desperately scanning through them for Harry, and was so happy when the tall guy in front of him finally moved away, to reveal… no one. Harry had left his spot, Louis could feel the dread crawling underneath his skin. His gaze was scanning every face, and nothing, Harry must have left the in the room. Louis walked to the kitchen, but only a few people were inside and none of them were Harry. He knew that the rooms upstairs were closed, so other than the toilets so the only other location he could think of was outside of the house. He considered putting on his jacket, but to be honest he didn’t want to waste the time, so he left the house in just his thin t-shirt.

He quickly stepped off the stairs, hugging himself in a desperate fight against the cold. He finally found him on the terrace. Alone. _THANK FUCK!_ He was leaning, shoulders slumped, head hanging low, hands grabbing the railing with so much force that his knuckles were white. If Louis didn’t know any better he’d have almost thought he looked sad. The thing was, he didn’t know better anymore, because so many things had gotten fucked up. He didn’t know anything anymore. 

Midnight had hit minutes ago but Harry remained there, looking like a sad and beautiful statue. Suddenly, his body turned tense, so tense that his back muscles were visible through his black sweater. He turned around so quickly that Louis didn’t have enough time to react and he got caught in Harry’s intense stare. Fuck.

Harry’s face was concealing his emotions again and Louis didn’t want to risk embarrassment once again so he left the balcony door, leaving Harry there. Alone.

He tried to mingle with other people, and forced himself to talk with everyone throughout the night. Everyone but Harry. What were they supposed to say to each other? Things were getting awkward again and he was just so, so tired. It hurt missing him this much and it didn’t feel like the hole in his chest was getting any smaller.  He looked at his phone, saw that it was 2:36. Bedtime for him.

After giving a bazillion excuses for leaving a New Year’s party so early, he finally made his way over to Niall and the lads. Without so much as a fight they let him go, patting him on the back with knowing looks, filled with sadness. He'd turned around and was crossing the kitchen to leave the house when Harry appeared in front of him.

Louis wasn't counting on a goodbye scene with him. Apparently, neither was Harry if the huge frown on his face was anything to go by. “You're leaving?” Harry’s voice was raspy.

“Yeah.” came Louis’ soft reply while he rubbed his neck.

“Enjoyed the.. erm, the holidays?" Louis tried to be as casual as possible. He failed of course.

“Yeah. James came over with his family.” Louis was on the verge of a heart attack. _It was James?_ James Corden who he imagined as Harry's new man? Goddamit he was here moping and Harry did not have any man there, he had James and his family. If only he had known.

“Hey, erm… you could.. like.. “ Harry stopped abruptly.

Louis knew what Harry was trying to say, but he couldn’t stay. Not when Harry was staying  in the same house. He didn’t want to be near him all through the night being just his friend, with no tender touches, no kissing, no anything. Sure, he was a masochist, but not even he could stand so much. He'd learned his lesson to stay away from these situations. He started to wonder whether Harry was staying, though, and had to know if his leaving for a two hour drive was in vain or not.

“Are you staying?" he asked Harry and a look of confusion took over the younger boy’s face.

"Yeah..” he replied back softly.

“Then .. I mean.. thanks, but it’s better if I drive home.” For a moment Harry’s eyes looked sad, his expression hurt, but he quickly composed himself. It was gone so quickly in fact that Louis brushed it off, thinking it was all just his imagination.

Harry’s frown only deepened further. “But.. haven’t you been drinking?”

“Nah, actually, I didn’t touch any alcohol tonight.”

“Oh..”

_I didn’t drink anything, baby because I didn’t want to risk our friendship and fuck everything up even worse by kissing you._

They both stared at each other a few seconds longer and then looked away, the air feeling heavy around them. A soft breeze had his exposed hip breaking out in goosebumps and he visibly shivered. If Harry took notice of it, he didn’t react. Louis didn’t expect him to offer his jacket or anything, he was already wearing a jeans jacket after all, but damn, he missed wearing his boy’s jackets and clothes.

“I guess I'm headed out then.”

He took a couple of rushed steps from the house and whispered _Happy new year curly_.

If he hadn’t left the property that fast he would’ve heard _Happy new Year boo_ leaving Harry’s lips in a breathless whisper.

 

**January 10th**

_Mum: Lou, a fan DM’ed me that your tweet is getting close to making history._

_Louis: what tweet ? :O_

_Mum: …_

_Louis. Mum._

_Mum: OK, I am sending a screenshot to you._

He clicked the attachment to see it in bigger.

His heart stopped. His heart fucking stopped. _What is going on?_ It’s not like he was checking every single notification on his twitter, he had turned that shit off a long time ago so he only got notifications when the small group of his people tweeted.

He kept staring at his phone, thinking that this must be some kind of mistake or some twisted cruel joke of fate. It was the tweet he had posted after Harry re-tweeted a fan’s tweet to ‘spare a thought to Harry Styles because his heart was probably broken’ or summat. It was the tweet that he’d sent just before they started the fucking charade with Eleanor. It was his declaration of love and he’d meant every single word.  And three years later, here they were, Harry still in his heart even though they were broken up.

_Always in his heart._

_Always._

He checked tumblr and saw that people were actually keeping statistics on his tweet, making charts, even running a countdown. They posted happy ramblings of their plans if the tweet became the second most re-tweeted in history. _FUCK_. Why did they have to remind him of this? This exact same tweet was the start of his fauxmance with Eleanor, which was now coincidentally the reason for the breakup with his fiance. If there had been no bearding they still would’ve been together.  He’d still have his beautiful boy.

If it had been up to him, they would’ve been fucking married already. Jesus Christ, this was too painful for him. He closed all tabs and tried to forget.

Tried.

But the tweet kept flashing through his mind like a broken record on replay.

 

**January 13th**

He was just finishing the dinner Lottie made. Ever since they'd been to Spain, Lotts was obsessed with Mediterranean food. Her paella was absolutely amazing and the entire family enjoyed it. They’d been laughing a lot and he'd surprised himself with  how at ease he felt with his family . Moments like this were filling his body with hope, but then reality crashed down on him that he was still a shell of a human being: yes he was able to laugh when he lost himself in the conversation, but after the laughing had died down his lips curled down in sadness once more. His family had helped him a lot in the last few months, he loved them to death for it and really enjoyed spending some quality time with them, making up for lost time if you will.  They had been touring and working so much the last few years that he’d learned to accept the distance to a certain extent and was grateful to have Harry to fill the void.  Not having Harry in his life like he had grown so accustomed to made the longing for his family that much stronger.

Nowadays, it wasn’t rare that Louis spent more time with them. His mother invited him whenever she could, probably just to make sure he wasn’t bothering Zayn too much. She’d even asked him to move back home, at least made an open invitation that his room was ready whenever he needed or wanted it.  Louis didn’t want to make a decision yet, wasn’t ready to take that step. It’s true that he hadn’t been to their LA home nor their house in Cheshire and yes, legally he was still sharing his homes with Harry, but in reality he had been living with Zayn for months now.  Harry wasn’t Louis’ home anymore despite the compass on his arm and even though that was the truth, and the truth hurt like hell, he wasn’t ready to take the next step to make that permanent.  

Moving back to his family’s house might make perfect sense, but that would mean admitting defeat, he would be burning bridges. He wanted to build bridges and not burn them for god’s sake.  

He was just about to leave for his room when his phone beeped and he was swamped with DM’s. He checked them and they were filled with “ _Congratulations”;_ “ _AIMH bet Obama’s”_ in between the “ _You’re the best we love you_ ” messages. What the heck was going on? And for god’s sake, what was AIMH?

Some of his followers had sent him links even. He clicked on them one by one and his chin dropped to the ground.

**_WHAT.THE.ACTUAL.FUCK?_ **

Headline.  

 

**LOUIS TOMLINSON DECLARING HIS LOVE FOR HARRY STYLES BEATS OBAMA TO BECOME SECOND MOST RETWEETED IN HISTORY**

And another one.  

 

**ONE DIRECTION JUST BEAT OBAMA AT TWITTER: FOUR-YEAR OLD LOUIS TOMLINSON TWEET RACES PAST OBAMA'S 'FOUR MORE YEARS' POST**

And a lot more.    

 

**LOUIS TOMLINSON'S LOVE TWEET TO HARRY STYLES IS SECOND MOST RETWEETED EVER**

And every fucking headline was about them.   

 

**ONE DIRECTION: LOUIS TOMLINSON'S LOVE FOR HARRY STYLES BECOMES INTERNET GOLD!**

_Love tweet._

_Love for Harry Styles._

Suddenly the room felt much too small, the walls felt as if they were closing in, and his emotions were running much too high. Final decisions on his life had been made and now the headlines were laughing in his face, mocking him and Harry and all that they'd been through.

They’d fought so hard and he couldn’t do anything to change how things were going. He’d fucked it all up by being unwilling to forgive him, too stubborn to let it go and now he had to pay the price. He hadn’t been able to convince Harry to give them another chance and the pain of knowing that it was all down to him was intense.

He had to get out of the house, couldn’t stay there in that room with the walls moving in on him. He needed to do something otherwise he'd go crazy. He ran downstairs, threw on his jean jacket and Nikes, made a quick decision to take this phone with him and left the house.

What started out as a great idea had quickly turned into a shortage in his brain, because it was so damn cold. He was freezing his ass off but he supposed in the scheme of things, that didn’t really matter. Being able to breathe was definitely more important. He walked through the neighborhood anyway, head down just to give people less chance of recognizing him. He reached the playground and sat down on a kid’s swing probably looking like a disheveled mess if he looked anything like how he felt. He didn't know how long he sat there, but when his phone showed close to nine pm, he walked back home.

He directed his steps towards the stairs, ignoring everything and everyone, taking two steps at a time, only stopping when he was in the safety of his room.

Almost right away, his phone started buzzing in his pocket and he looked at the screen expecting another DM, but what he saw on the display made him freeze immediately.

_Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._

He couldn’t believe what he saw. He knew that number only too well, it was their landline in LA. Even if he’d just woken up from hundred years of sleep with amnesia, he'd still recognize that number.

That was _his_ name and their number and he didn’t know what to do.  He just stared at the screen and concentrated so hard that the “H” below the number started to dance.

The phone continued buzzing in his hands and he contemplated ignoring the call and then, maybe, trying to go back to his life, back to Zayn’s house which wasn’t really his home. What did he want though? Why was he calling him?

Before he could properly think it through, his thumb went on autopilot and touched the Accept button.

“Did you mean it?” Harry asked in a voice so soft and low that Louis was hardly able to catch it. Also, was he drunk? Because their last drunken conversation hadn’t gone so well if he remembered correctly. Louis couldn’t speak, his mind had gone blank and he was confused about what to say. What was Harry talking about? He hadn’t done any interviews lately, he didn’t say anything hurtful, he hadn’t even said anything at all, so what was Harry referring to?

Louis took a deep breath, letting it out again slowly. His lips turned white from biting them. “Did I mean what?” he asked on a shaky voice.

Harry waited a second and Louis feared that the worst was coming just now.

“Did you mean that I’m always in your heart?”

He heard Harry, of course he did. It was obvious that he was asking him about the tweet. Why was he asking him about it? What kind of question was that? If he'd meant it? Why did he want to know if he indeed did mean it? Millions of questions filled his mind and he got so lost in them, that his room was spinning and he felt dizziness and nausea hitting the back of his throat.

He had to sit down. He _needed_ to sit down. He looked around his room just to spot anything to sit on, surprised to find his legs working and taking him towards the corner in his room. As soon as he reached the bean bag, his boneless body collapsed into it, landing with a low thump. His heartbeat stopped for a moment, _everything_ stopped for a moment, he could hear the muffled voices of his family members through his closed door, Lotts’ and Fiz’ laughs making a big contrast to the stillness of his room. Life was continuing around him, only _his_ world had stopped, _his_ room was silent, _he_ could hear his own breath. Suddenly the phone started slipping through his hands, as it was damp from the cold sweat of his hands. He quickly wiped it dry with his sleeves, then checked the display, thankful that the line was still on.

He had to _think_. He needed time to fucking think of what his answer to Harry should be. What if he'd just called him to mock him, only to remind him of his pain? No, he would never do that, it would be too low, no matter how much Louis had hurt him. And Harry was a good fucking person. Louis wanted to call a time out, he needed to think but he knew that Harry was waiting for his answer. _Fuck!_ What was he supposed to say? They were just friends. Was that normal for a friend to remind the other one of a love tweet dedicated to him?

The silence on Louis’ end was growing longer. Hearing Harry’s words again after so long affected him deep inside. Something broke inside of him then. He wasn’t even sure if Harry could hear him through the tears that were running down his face. “Of course I did Haz.”

“Then.. ," he heard Harry shuffling about, as if he was gathering something together,  “then why am... why am I not there anymore?” Harry’s voice broke at that and he sounded like a lost little kid; Louis felt heartbroken. The thought of Harry not realizing how much of his heart had actually belonged to him, still belonged to him now, ached deep within his chest like a dull thump. The shudder that took over his body at how deeply entrenched Harry was in his heart, could easily have taken his feet out from under him.

_You’re still there, baby._

Louis cleared his throat before speaking up _._ “What do you mean?”

“You wrote me out of your life completely. You treated me as if I wasn’t there. I wanted to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen...” Harry’s voice cracked mid-sentence. It was quiet for a moment then Harry took a deep breath. - “I miss you so much.” came Harry’s whisper, the sound of his breath heavy and solid against the phone speaker.

 _Harry missed him?_ But missed him how? As a friend or missed him as Louis or missed him as what?? _Fuck_! What did it mean that he missed him now? Could it mean he…? No, it couldn’t be it. He didn’t want to let himself be too hopeful but it was so hard. He still needed and wanted Harry more than his own life. He took a deep breath, forced his eyes closed for breath longer and then gave out a painful whisper, “I miss you too, Harry. So bloody much” Then, as if coming to a final decision to _fuck it all_ he added “Nothing has changed. I still love you with everything I have”

He could hear Harry’s breathing through the phone and Louis could feel his heart in his throat, his lungs tightening as he tried to match his own breaths to Harry’s, just like he would have if he’d been standing right in front of him. After another minute Harry spoke again.

“Do you remember what we did when we had the first fight about Eleanor?

Louis heard what Harry was saying, but his mind was too blank to remember. “Er.” he stumbled.

“You said you wished you could go back to Hi?”

Images started to appear in Louis’ vision now. “Yes, I remember now.” Hope crawled into the black holes in his heart and his lungs starting to function, less restricted. Harry couldn’t possibly mean it, could he?

“Do it.” came Harry’s firm imperious voice.

“What?”

“Do it. I’m gonna hang up. Do it.” he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He dialed Harry’s number from speed dial, fingers trembling with anticipation.

“Hi” his greeting came out so soft, he didn’t know if Harry heard it or not.

“Hi Boo.”

His heart started again as soon as the endearment left Harry’s mouth. He hadn’t heard it in months and it felt like a fluffy blanket wrapped around his body, encompassing him like an actual hug from Harry.

There was a brief silence after the greeting, neither of them daring to speak. This silence was already so different compared to their previous phone calls, they hadn’t talked like this in months. This was THEM now. This was HarryandLouis. This was the thing that Louis had missed the most, their togetherness, the tight unit that they both called home.

“I miss my home.” Louis’ head fell so his chin rested on his chest, hung heavy with emotion.

“I miss you too!” Louis felt so giddy hearing Harry’s response, he’d missed their old banter so much and just couldn’t help himself.

“You rhyme Harold.” There was a short pause and for a second Louis was afraid of how Harry would react, wondered if this was too much, too soon, doubting if it was a wise idea to go all boyfriendly on him.

“Now kiss me you fool.” He could clearly hear Harry smiling, making the crinkles by his eyes reappear as he smiled back.

He was shaking his head happily, still not believing his ears. He laughed out loud. Chuckled more so, giggling happily like a little kid. He felt his blood circulating in his veins again,felt like a bird whose wings had healed after a long, painful period of resting. He could fly again for the first time. He was overcome and feeling happy, excited, and scared, but not scared of love. “Jesus I’m in love with an idiot.”

“I love you too.” The moment he heard Harry say he loved him, he decided to tattoo the words on his brain, and never forget what they had gone through and how they were still here, after everything, declaring their love to each other once more.

“Stop rhyming, or I’m gonna hang up.” he would never do that of course, but there was no need to say it, because this was them. This was all them.

“Where are you?”

Louis gulped. “I was actually at the playground, but now I’m in my old room.” He was fully expecting Harry to call him out on the consequences of being seen or met by people especially while being alone in public.

“Will you come home?” Harry asked instead and oh God, Louis couldn’t keep his eyes from dampening.

He didn’t need to think about his answer twice. “I'll catch the first flight that leaves this country and ends up in L.A..” he was crying and laughing at the same time, such a happy mess.

“Really?” Harry’s sounded like a kid. God, he loved him so much.

Butterflies swarmed Louis’ stomach, soft and fluttery at the thought of once again being in Harry’s space. “Really. I’m coming home babycakes.”

“I’ll be waiting for you sweetcheeks.”

Louis hugged himself, suddenly feeling his body fill with warmth, hope and love. He wanted to feel Harry’s arms around him right this second, wanted to hug him and kiss him, but the best he could do was brush his thumb gently over his compass.

As soon as they hung up the call, he dialed his agent asking her to book him a ticket, no matter what the timing was. He didn’t want to spend any more time in England than what was absolutely necessary. He also knew he had to talk to Alberto, but didn’t want to disturb him this late, so he sent him a text message instead.   

_Louis: Fancy a trip to L.A. soon?_

_Alberto: Hell yeah! Was high time you grew a set of balls!_

_Louis: Har-Har._

_Alberto: text me the time and I’ll be there._

His agent texted him back.

_“There’s one leaving in 3 hours. Want me to book it for you?”_

He quickly typed his approval, a thank you and a smiley just to let her know he was grateful.

_“Okay, I will release some fan photos tomorrow to avoid suspicion.”_

He couldn’t believe he had everything arranged to see his boy.

 

**January 14th**

Alberto agreed to let him drive the car, but insisted he follow in a black SUV. He was lucky with the traffic, only a few cars here and there, catching just a handful of red lights. Every time he had to stop the car he busied himself by playing with his fingers. He was so excited to see Harry, that he felt giddy and laughed at the strangers who looked at him funny from the few cars he saw. Well, hopefully his aviators and his snapback helped conceal his identity.

He arrived at their gated community, stopping by the gate, pulled his windows down, cursing his fate for his short arms because it forced him to lean out of the car so much that his chest got pushed by the door. Eventually, he managed to slide the card through the detector, and waited impatiently as the white gate slowly opened. He drove by the beautiful mansions until finally he saw theirs at the end of the road.

His card let him in and he drove too fast down the road leading to the drive way. He had barely stopped the car when his feet hit the ground. He shut the door and was fishing for the keys in his pocket when he heard the front door open. He looked up and saw his beautiful boy for the first time since New Years, wearing his favorite soft trackies, which were hanging dangerously low, just enough so he could see a bit of  his laurel tattoos, hair in a neat bun. He wanted to just stop and stare at his beautiful boy but his body was on autopilot, keys landing with an angry rattle, his compass finally finding his ship that he so desperately needed and for a moment they just looked at each other, Louis’ couldn’t tear his eyes away from  Harry.

He stumbled in the lawn, tripping over his own feet once or twice, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want anything to ruin this moment, he maintained eye contact with Harry the whole time. His pace picked up as he approached the door. Harry was barefoot Louis noticed and he left the doorstep and took three long steps to cut the distance between them, his eyes never once leaving Louis’. When their toes touched, Louis could feel the heat radiating off Harry. They looked at each other, his slow content smile mirrored on Harry's. They stood like this for a while, suddenly not knowing how to show the immense love they felt for each other. Louis tried with a whispered "Hi" which Harry returned with a dimple. Then his eye got cloudy, raised his hands in quick motion, grabbed Louis’ face with both of his hands, crushing their lips together and he willingly kissed him back, getting lost in him, letting his body lean all the way in, held up by Harry’s firm hands. A few seconds passed, and Louis froze as alarms were ringing in his ears. _Fuck, we’re still in the open!_

He mumbled between kisses “They” _kiss_. “Can”. _Kiss._ “See”. _Kiss_. “Us”. _Kiss._ “Baby.” then as if it was not clear, he repeated “They can see us baby.”

Harry stopped the kiss, took a small step back from Louis, looked to his left, then his right, fear and hesitation written on his face for a second. Paps were fucking rats and could hide anywhere, always ready for the money shot, but then as if something had hit him, Harry's expression changed to determined. He stared down at Louis, looked him up and down, devouring every inch of his body with so much passion, that Louis felt his dick twitch. Harry gently slowly took Louis’ bottom lips in between his and released them with a low pop. “I don’t care,” he whispered and Louis felt his breath fanning his face, all of his senses on overdrive. He swiped his tongue along Louis’ upper and bottom lips in such a slow motion that it drove Louis crazy. “I. don’t. fucking. care.” he added Louis couldn’t help himself but clutch Harry’s’ t’shirt to pull him closer, all the way in. Louis couldn’t contain himself anymore. He was Harry’s. He had no control.

His hands roamed all over Harry’s back, exploring his favorite muscles, while Harry played with the hem of his t-shirt. Harry put Louis’ feet on his and he started moving them towards the door, never once breaking the kiss. They giggled and then the next thing Louis knew they were inside the house, his back gently hitting the back of the front door, the cold glass causing goosebumps to errupt all over his body. When had Harry taken off his t-shirt?

Louis’ body was on high alert. He wanted so much all at the same time that he didn’t even know what to do with himself, his hands were slightly shaking and his mind was a non-stop mantra of _Harry Harry Harry_ over and over again.  All he could smell was Harry: his aftershave, his strawberry scented shampoo and the smell of _him, his boy._ All he could feel was Harry, his smooth chest pressed right up against Louis’ own, rubbing against him. His bigger hands were roaming all over his own skin like Louis’ body was a road map and Harry was studying for a final exam in geography. All of his senses were overwhelmed in the very best of ways, his body inflamed. If felt so good. He felt so, so good.

Harry’s hot breath was ghosting over his neck all the way across until he reached right underneath his ear. He knew him so well, knew exactly the spots that drove him the most crazy. He could feel feel him smiling into his kisses along his neck and into his collarbones, even felt it widening as he licked at an especially sensitive spot, and Louis couldn’t help but let out a long stream of filthy moans because sweet Jesus he had missed this so much, missed Harry so much. He’d been so scared they would never be like this again and it was surreal to be here and to know that no one but Harry could possibly make him feel this way.  

Harry bit into his neck then marking him as they both loved to do and even the pain felt incredible. Louis couldn’t help but push his hips into Harry’s then searching for more friction and was only slightly disappointed when the younger boy laughed at him a bit, backed his own hips away from him and whispered, “Why the hurry baby?” then kissed that sensitive spot on his neck again, lips brushing Louis’ earlobes, sucking them for excruciatingly long and finally letting them go. Harry knew all too well how his actions affected Louis. Nothing had even really started yet and Louis was already a moaning whimpering mess. “I'm gonna take my time, I wanna feel you, wanna  touch you everywhere”, he swiped his tongue down Louis’ neck, which made things even worse for him. The door wasn’t enough to keep his body in place, “Let me take care of you.” and fuck, but who the hell was he to deny Harry?

He pulled back then a bit just so he could look in Louis’ eyes once more and they had one of their silent back and forth conversations. Harry assured him with his eyes, making sure he knew that this wasn’t just sex, this was so much more, double checking that they were both on the same page. And they were, they very much were. The only thing Louis could even think was _more more More. More Harry._ God, he just wanted him so much, the feeling had never gone away, had only been lingering in the background mixed in with his sadness, and now it was back ten fold. “Ok-okay” came out Louis’ high-pitched voice, filled with such want and desire, he was surprised he was actually able to find the words. Harry seemingly convinced leaned back in and pushed his lips solidly against Louis’ in another bruising kiss.  

He moved them further into the corridor, stopping God only knows where, grabbed both of Louis’ wrists in one of his hands and raised his arms above his head, pressing them gently but firmly into the wall. This was one of his favorite ways to be with Harry. He loved when their need for one another was so strong that it felt rushed and exciting, just as good as it had been since the very beginning. It was never going to get old with them, never going to turn stale. His body screamed for Harry’s and he was never going to want anyone as much as he wanted this beautiful boy ever again. He was panting now and desperately trying to push his own dick into Harry’s to no avail because he just smiled and backed his hips away once more.

Pressing his hands a little tighter, he leaned in close to his lips and whispered, “Uh-uh.  Not yet.” And Louis almost wanted to protest with a cry of help but before he could say or do anything about it Harry had leaned over and taken one of his nipples between his teeth.

He let out a sharp gasp while trying to rein in his body’s natural response that had him arching away from the wall as Harry soothed over the aching spot with his tongue before moving over to do the exact same to the other side. Fuck. It felt so good. It felt so good but Louis still wanted more. He wanted everything with Harry again, needed to re-connect and feel like one again, wanted their bodies reunited in every way. He wanted to feel Harry from the inside and he wanted Harry to feel the same.

He was moving his tongue and lips all over his chest, paying special attention to the 78 tattoo and his collarbones like he was a boy dying of thirst and Louis was a tall glass of cold water. He couldn’t do anything but take it, take everything Harry chose to give him as his arms were pinned helplessly against the wall.

As he continued whimpering, Harry’s free hand reached down, stopping just at the button of Louis’ jeans, he quietly asked, “Can I?”

 _Can I?_ Was he serious? Louis nodded his head up and down and breathlessly answered him, “Yes. God, yes, Haz.”

He had his button flicked open practically before the words had left Louis’ lips and Harry leaned into him once again, “Don’t move your hands.” One more kiss and Harry had released his wrists and was sinking down to his knees in front of him, pulling his jeans and pants down in one smooth motion that he had down to perfection.

His hand grabbed the base of Louis’ dick firmly and his whole body let out a very obvious shudder. Staying still was going to be next to impossible and Harry must have known this because the cheeky bastard smirked up at him and cautioned him once again, “Remember what I said, Lou. Don’t move.” They both knew that it was a weak threat because although they both loved to play, it had been a long time for both of them and he had to know there would be no way for Louis to obey him while he was in an obvious state.

Then, looking up at him through his eyelashes with his big green eyes he licked a solid stripe straight up the underside of Louis’ dick and took the tip into his mouth, pressing his tongue into the tip and sucking at the precome that was already beading at the top. His hips stuttered immediately and Harry pulled his lips away, pushing his hips with both hands firmly back against the wall.

“What did I say, baby? You need to keep your hands still. No touching yet for you.” Jesus, any other time, Louis would be so on board with this game. There was literally nothing hotter to him than Harry taking full control, especially since Louis was typically the one in charge. It worked for them. Sometimes, though, Louis needed to be the one who let go, needed to give up all of his control and trust that Harry would take care of him. He always did, too. Their love was amazing and often he’d wondered if he ever would have gotten to this level with any other person. He honestly believed that he probably wouldn’t have, might have gone his whole life never knowing just how good it could be if fate hadn’t stepped in all those years ago.  

And while playing was usually something they both enjoyed, he didn’t think he could handle it right now. It’s just that after having gone so long without touching one another, Louis wanted more, needed more. He wanted to touch Harry too, wanted to run his hand through his hair and even pull a little, just as he knew he liked. He wanted to reacquaint his lips and fingers with all of Harry’s creamy, soft skin and he wanted to look into his eyes and watch him as he fell apart.

He couldn’t do any of that if he gave up all control. But they’d just gotten here after such a long time apart, he was afraid to stop what they had going on right now, worried that he’d break their momentum, and also, he really _really_ wanted Harry’s mouth back on his dick again. Like right now.

So he pushed aside his worry and looked down at his boy, eyes sending him a message letting Harry know that he would be good. It must have worked because a second later Louis was thanking God and Jesus and anyone else that would listen for the eighth wonder of the world which was without a doubt Harry’s mouth. How the hell had he gone this long without it was beyond his comprehension. Not like he could possibly comprehend anything right now. Not with his warm wet mouth wrapped around him, his obscene red lips wet with saliva. Oh God, he wasn’t gonna last, it was too good. He felt too much. Before he knew what was happening, the warmth was gone and Harry was gripping his base hard, almost as if trying to stop him from coming. _What the hell?_

He looked down at him in question just as Harry reached up to grip Louis’ hands and, _oh_ , right. It was just as he’d suspected. There was no way he would possibly be able to keep his hands to himself right now. Nope, not this time. His hands had in fact moved without his permission straight into Harry’s hair, taking the hair tie out with a skilled movement of his fingers, wanting to feel Harry in every way. He tangled his fingers in his curls, pulling ever so slightly. Harry looked up at him with a smirk but his expression quickly changed as he took in Louis’ own. He must’ve looked a right mess, he felt like one at any rate.

“Lou?”

Fuck. He was too on edge already. He’d ruined things before they’d even really gotten started. He could feel his eyes glossing over a bit and he wanted to punch himself for needing too much, for not being able to just let things happen. Harry’s worry intensified as he watched him struggle for words. “Babe, you’re scaring me a little.” He’d stood up slowly with those words and gently grabbed Louis' chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “Tell me, baby. Do you not...do you not... want me?”

“No, Haz.” Harry’s eyes immediately filled at that so he forced himself to keep going, to make him understand. “No, Haz. I mean it's not that. I want you. God, I want you so much. It’s just I don’t think it can be like this. Not this time anyway. I mean, This is great. Fuck, I’m fucking this all up. Listen, baby. Listen to me. I need to be able to touch you this time. It’s been so long and I…” he trailed off.

Relief flooded him as he saw the instant Harry understood. They’d never had to say all the words, this was their thing, their special way of being able to communicate. It was just another validation of how they were fated to be.

“Bedroom?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. Our bed. Want you in our bed.” He was grateful when Harry’s dimple re-appeared as if to let him know that everything was going to be okay. Thank God. He understood.

Minutes later they were laying down facing one another in their bed, both of them just staring at one another for a moment, taking it all in, allowing themselves to appreciate the fact that they were going to make it. Louis knew that they needed to talk. Words most definitely needed to be said, but right now their bodies needed to reunite, needed to be together in that way. Talking could come later, would come later. They had all the time in the world. He inched closer to Harry, little by little until he was close enough to lean in and take his bottom lip between his own once again.

That was a good enough reassurance to Harry and he started caressing his hands down Louis’ back and sides, more gently than in the hallway, but at the same time returning everything in his kisses that Louis was giving him. Louis’ own hands were running down Harry’s back as well, scratching lightly and then flattening out against him as he tugged their bodies flush against one another. It didn’t take long before things intensified and they found themselves with legs slotted between one another, both moaning helplessly into one another’s mouths.

When their bodies finally did reconnect, blue eyes held green intently as if they were looking directly into the other part of their soul. They moved as one and fell apart together like fireworks exploding into a summer sky and nothing had ever felt so good or so right to Louis as it did in that moment. He knew without a doubt that they were going to make it, that there was literally nothing that could stop them from finding their happiness together. He wanted nothing more than to curl his body around his beautiful boy and drift off to sleep for about a week, maybe longer. Sleep had been the most unfortunate casualty over these last few months. It had been too hard to have a peaceful night’s rest without hearing Harry’s soft breathing beside him and right now, looking at him with his curls matted with sweat and his eyes glazed over, he felt a calm that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He got up and left the peacefulness of the bed because he wanted to take care of his boy, he went to the bathroom, wetting a hand towel, cleaned himself, then turned back to their bedroom. He looked at his boy from the door. Gosh he was so beautiful, body spread in the king size bed, his beautiful tattoos telling stories that only they could understand, his tired happy eyes holding his own, sending signs of love and contentment, holding all the promises he could ever wish for.

He approached the bed and slowly wiped Harry clean, making sure not to spend too much time on the over sensitive areas. Harry looked down at him with love, fondness and something _Harry_. That look which was reserved for Louis only, the look that made his insides melt, that he had missed for months now. It was too much. He couldn't help but wipe his eyes with his wrists, moving his body and settling in an angle so his face was hidden from Harry's. He sloppily wiped the cloth on his stomach although it was already dry. Just as he’d dreaded, Harry's stomach muscles tensed and he sat up to get a better look at him.

"Lou.." His voice filled with so much worry that it made Louis burst out in a sob. Harry's body shifted in Louis’ direction, his hands instantly palming his face on both sides, big green eyes desperately looking into ocean blue for answers. He gently wiped Louis' tears, patiently waiting for him to be ready to talk. Every new teardrop that landed on Louis' cheek was captured by Harry's fingers. Harry clutched Louis' head and leaned it onto his shoulders, then lifted his body and wrapped him in a sitting hug. Harry's shoulders were getting damp from his tears, some slowly riding down his own bare back. His hands caressed Louis' hair, his neck, all over his back, his own heart breaking the whole while Louis’ cries intensified. Minutes passed until Louis' body finally shuddered less, his breathing evened out and he clutched Harry to him, hugging the life out of him.

Harry wanted to talk to him, to assure him that they were okay, that he would never ever let him go, but he wanted, no he _needed_ to see Louis' eyes. He gently pulled his head and took his face in his hands, Louis' face still damp from the tears, his eyes looking down in embarrassment.

"Look up at me baby."

Louis' shook his head side to side. "I can't."

Harry grabbed his face with a bit more force, but still as gently as some people treat their most valuable china. "Look at me please."

Louis raised his head then, eyes on Harry's chest, very slowly until the blues were focused on the greens. What Harry saw on Louis' face shattered his heart into million pieces. If he’d ever doubted Louis hurting during the months they had been separated, his doubts had now definitely flown out the window because the boy in front of him was hurt and heartbroken every bit as much as he had been.

"I fucked up Haz." he cried with a scratchy throat.

"No, you didn't." Harry's voice was firm.

Louis released a twisted sarcastic bark, "I _almost_ fucked it up."- he added unwilling to stop putting himself down.

"But you didn't." Harry reassured him with finality in his voice.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sor--" Louis’ voice cracked and dammit he felt his body taken over by agony, a shattering pain that pulled at his chest so bad that he had trouble breathing. _I almost lost you_. He had almost let his boy go. He could have possibly never experienced this moment, never again had Harry hugging him like this, assuring him of his love. _I almost fucking lost you_. It broke his heart how damn stupid he had acted towards Harry, of how he almost lost the most important person in his life.

Harry desperately held his face. "Lou, I'm sorry too, OK? It wasn’t only on you, it was on both of us." Harry looked at him with determination, as if he wanted to carve his words in stone so Louis would remember them forever. "We both were hurt and we both hurt each other."

Louis forced his eyes closed, looking down at his lap, watching his own fingers trembling.

Harry placed his thumb on his chin and gently tilted his head up again, patiently waiting for Louis’ eyes to clear and focus on him.

"But you're here now, we're both here now." Harry leaned into Louis' face, placing small kisses there, cheeks now newly dampened by the light trace of his tongue. He kissed his eyelids, first the right, then the left,  Louis felt a deep sigh leaving his body. Harry followed by placing the soft pillows of his lips on Louis' own, regarding him with the most tender and loving kisses that he could muster. Wanting to give Louis the message that they were okay and that they would be okay. Louis' body immediately melted, as he slumped more into Harry's lap, the younger boy maintaining a firm grip on Louis' back.

Harry halted the kiss abruptly, Louis whimpering in protest at the loss of his lips. He opened his eyes, just to see meet Harry's. "You're here Boo and I’m never letting you go again." he whispered and fuck, Louis was so overwhelmed by his feelings, the exhaustion of months of stress and worry hitting him hard.

"I love you Haz."

"I know Boo, I love you too." Harry took a closer look on Louis' face. "Baby, your eyes are slits, fuck, you must be so tired.” Harry released Louis from his lap and lay down on his side of the bed. “C’mere let's get some sleep." Louis went willingly, automatically forming into big spoon around Harry's little spoon, hugging him hard, his chest becoming one with Harry's back, breathing in Harry's scent, the smell of home. He closed his eyes and was about to drift off to what would undoubtedly be the best sleep he’d had in months when Harry moved and sat up. Louis surprised by this opened his eyes and caught Harry's retreating body. He watched him as he opened the drawer shuffling his underwear around, frantically searching for something. He opened something with a loud thump, then pushed back the drawer soundlessly. He looked back at Louis as if to check to see if he had gotten caught or not. Louis closed his eyes just in time thinking that Harry wouldn’t think he had been caught.

Harry walked back to the bed then, sat down slowly and carefully positioned himself back into Louis' arms. He placed Louis' hands on top of his own and Louis' heart almost stopped as he felt the contact of metal on Harry’s finger, his own fingers slowly brushing the band, searching for the engraved initials and yes, they were there, this was the ring he had given to Harry. His heart filled with so much love for him that he couldn't help but to give himself up and whispered, "God, I love you so much."

"I knew you were up Lou!" _Busted_. Harry turned his body to face Louis', dimples showing, eyes shining from contentment, lips forming a smile of genuine happiness. Louis was determined to avoid crying even if they would have been happy tears. He looked at Harry with eyes a bit more shiny than normal. "You and your rings Harold!" He told Harry in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice. The younger boy regarded him with an understanding look, barking out a loud laugh, glad to see that Louis' sense of humor hadn't changed at all.

Once his laughter died down and he was able to form coherent sentences he asked Louis, "Don't you like it on me?" Harry had this uncanny ability to come up with a perfectly pathetic pout on his face.

Louis' answered firmly. "I fucking love it on you."

"Let's go to sleep baby." Harry offered when he saw that Louis' eyes were growing heavier due to lack of sleep.

Harry turned back so Louis could spoon him just the way they both loved it, and listened to Louis' breaths even out, snuggling himself into his chest, happy for the skin on skin contact. Suddenly, there was the unexpected sound of skin hitting skin. It sounded like Louis had hit forehead with his palms, and turning his head to him Harry was proven right, because Louis’ palm was on his own forehead, slowly sliding down his face. "Fuck!" He growled.

Harry looked at him questioningly. "What?"

"My clothes." Louis growled raking his fingers angrily through his hair.

Harry’s frown just grew deeper. “What about with your clothes?

“I bloody well left them back home.”

"What?” Harry tried not to laugh, his chin trembling anyway; Louis was adorable when he was angry.

“I didn’t bring shit, just jumped on the first plane. Drove to London, pretty sure I was speeding too. I only had minutes to board.”

Louis was so angry with himself that Harry couldn’t help but let out a laugh then and hit him lightly on the shoulder. "God, you scared me for a second." Louis brushed his shoulders with an overplayed hurt on his face.

"I have enough clothes for you to wear.” claimed Harry and Louis had a slow smile appearing on his face, but disappeared as soon as Harry added with a smug face: “it's not like you ever needed an excuse anyway."

Louis’ eyes widened and poked Harry in the chest. "You're so full of yourself!"

“But you love me” came Harry’s retort.

“That I do.”

They went back to bed again, and both of them had the best sleep they'd had in months.

 

**January 15th**

When Louis woke up the next morning he felt cold and immediately reached for Harry with eyes still closed, but couldn’t find him. He opened his eyes and saw that Harry was definitely not in their bed. For a second he let himself worry wondering if Harry regretted yesterday, regretted sleeping with him, regretted declaring his love to him.

His blood ran cold when he heard soft sniffing noises coming from downstairs. He quickly jumped out of bed, ran to the drawer and chose the first pair of underwear he found. As soon as he had them on, he rushed downstairs on tiptoes to find Harry. If he hadn’t been fully awake yet, the cold tie definitely took care of that and was now.

He took a moment to listen to the sound of crying and turned towards the kitchen. As he approached, he saw Harry sitting on the floor, his head bent back to the wall. He was now practically running to him, grabbing his shoulders as he knelt down in front of him. He noticed that Harry had his phone in his left hand clutched in a death grip. His own breathing stopped as he looked at his boy.

He gently brushed his hands and Harry visibly shivered at his touch. Louis felt heartbroken. _What the fuck happened_?

“Haz.” No reaction. Louis nudged his shoulders a bit. “Haz, baby.” Harry just looked at him with dead eyes. “You’re scaring me, babe, what happened?”

“J-jefcold.” came Harry’s incoherent answer.

“Baby, take a deep breath and calm down, I can’t hear anything while you’re crying this hard.”

Harry took a few deep breaths while Louis regarded him with a worried look. God, he didn’t have a clue what to expect.

A few seconds passed and Harry’s breathing got a bit calmer. He said only one word. “Jeff.”

“Jeff?” Louis asked with a frown. “What about him? What happened Haz?”

“Cal-led.”

“Okay? What happened to him?”

“Not him. U-us.”

“Haz, I thought we were… fuck. I thought we were okay. We were going to be okay?” Louis asked, his face hot, his heart in pieces. His body slumped down next to Harry’s, assuming the same position, head tilted towards the wall, and if he deliberately hit the back of his head to the wall.. well who could blame him?

Harry turned to him with wide eyes. “No, L-Lou. Fuck, no.” Harry was crying harder again and Louis worried they wouldn’t be able to talk if he was this upset.

“I’m going to get you some water babe.” Louis slowly moved to get up but Harry grabbed his wrist, holding him firm. Louis looked in his eyes, trying to understand what happened to him.

“It’s hap-hap.” a sob came out of Harry. “Y-youcanstay.”

“Baby, you have to stop crying, because I can’t understand a thing.”

Harry frowned for a second and then his eyes blinked, as if he had just realized something; he lifted his hand and showed his phone to Louis. He looked at Harry, eyes asking for permission and when Harry nodded yes,  he took the phone from him.

An email from Jeff was open and at first Louis didn’t have a clue what could be so important but then his heart stopped and the phone almost slipped out of his hand.

“I can s-stay? We can.. fuck.. we can travel... travel together?” He looked down at Harry who was nodding fervently, a slow smile playing on his lips.

“Op-op. At-attach--.” as soon as the words left Harry’s lips, Louis was downloading the attachment and waiting impatiently for the viewer to display it.

The moment he saw it, he understood why Harry was crying. The attachment was a timeline of 4 months, but the last line was the most important. He looked at Harry, tears running down his face rapidly, and they hugged and kissed each other in a way that could easily cause bruises. He couldn’t believe it, they were finally being offered a way out, after four years. They both cried together, and although this time the tears had nothing to do with pain, the emotions were intense.

Eventually, Louis’ stomach growled, so Harry stopped the hug and made Louis eat some cereal because they were both too lazy to arrange grocery shopping. Decoys, bodyguards. No, they had better things to do.

As the day went on Louis’ heart filled with anticipation. They re-read the email several times just to make sure they didn’t just dream the whole thing, but it was still there, loud and clear. As he was checking the plan again, Louis eyes caught something. _Eleanor_.

Damn, they still hadn’t talked about that, although it had been one of the biggest factors as to why they broke up.

Louis walked up to Harry who was happily humming while sorting the laundry. He looked up at Louis and saw that something was not okay, quickly stood up and took the two steps it took to reach him.

“Boo, what happened?”

Louis gulped before he spoke. “Babe it says that I have to drive to LAX, and do a fan walk with.. with Eleanor. I’m sure it’s not going to last more than an hour, if I count the trip there and back then that it might take a bit more than an hour but" - he was rambling - "maybe I can do something, talk to someo-----” Harry put his index finger up to his lips.

“It’s okay Lou. It’s okay.” his voice was calming, reassuring and didn’t have a single trace of sarcasm.

“But I have to meet her.” added Louis on a careful voice, a frown forming on his face.

Harry’s finger caressed Louis’ cheeks. “I don’t care. I know you have to do it, ok?”

Louis looked into Harry's eyes, searching for something, his insecurity came back and was looking for some sign that this is just a sick joke, that they would still end up fighting, but all he saw was sincerity. “Okay.”

“I’m never gonna question it, and I was so stupid for ever thinking that, I still owe you an apology.”

“It’s okay, baby. I think we both learned a lesson, if not more.”

"How - how did Jeff know that.." Louis felt incredibly stupid. Can they even talk about the break up? Should they talk about it? Will it be a thing they just both willingly choose to ignore? Harry looked at him with understanding in his eyes.

"I messaged him yesterday."

Louis looked lost in thoughts. Did this idea just come up with the very well prepared pdf's and timelines? He knew Jeff was not the guy trusting outside forces, instead he was the kind of guy who made the rules of the game.

"Haz, what would've--"

"I wouldn't have done it." Harry's eyes were confident and reassuring. "Not without you."

"I never want to hold you back, you know that?" Louis was close to tears again.

"You're not. You're the one holding me _together_." Louis crushed Harry in a tight hug, and just let himself breathe Harry in, ignoring the past mistakes, mind only concentrating on the now and the future.

"I love you" came Harry's mumble in Louis' embrace.

"I love you too babe." 

Louis came out of the embrace, his eyes were catching and keeping Harry's. They both smiled, dimples appearing and the seriousness in the air was already gone, they were back into LouisandHarry.

 

**February 4th**

They were sitting on the plane when Louis pinched him on his side to get his attention. Harry raised his index finger, then fumbled for his phone to stop the music he was listening to. When he was done, he looked at Louis expectantly, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Louis pushed his own phone under Harry’s nose. Harry gently touched the phone, pinky brushing Louis’ hand. He looked at Louis and saw his eyes glistening.

Harry checked the screen and saw tumblr open. He smiled. “How are they? Freaking out?”

Louis let out a bark. “LAIRPORT! God, they’re fucking amazing. They’re calling it No Fucks February.” Louis said in a proud voice. “What will they call March?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“What will they call _April_?” retorted Harry.

They both froze for a second, looking at each other, their own hopes and plans shared with a single look into one another’s eye. They had so much love between them, both knowing that this was it, that they were almost there. Just a few more months.

“I love you Boo.”

“I love you too.” giggled Louis and hit Harry’s knee playfully. “Now show me a good time Harold. You've got fourteen hours.” Louis cheekily laid his head back, closing his eyes, Harry’s gaze burning a hot patch on him. He grinned, turned to Harry, opened his eyes again and added. “Fourteen hours is a lot, babe. Think you can manage?”

Harry’s face was a picture, eyes wide, mouth open. His lips moved as if to speak, but nothing came out. He closed and opened them again. “You’re so gonna....”

Louis looked at him with a smug smile, then gently touched Harry’s chin and tilted his jaw up to close his open mouth. “Gonna what?”

Harry was still in disbelief, “Shut up.”

“No, Harold, I don’t think I will in fact.  Let’s discuss this” Louis sat up straight, his body turned towards Harry’s as much as the seat and the seatbelt allowed him. “Gonna what?”

“I’m so gonna wreck you for this.”

Louis looked at him with a flirty look, one eyebrow raised. “Meet me in the bathroom in 15.”

**

 **Later on tumblr** : [thestylinsoncrew](http://thestylinsoncrew.tumblr.com/post/110197756950):

_so what do we have here_

__

_first the hole on harry’s shirt got bigger_

__

_and here we have some white suspicious substance on our dear harold’s jeans_

__

_so are you thinking what i’m thinking…?_

IF YOU LIKED THE STORY, PLEASE REBLOG THE ORIGINAL POST ON TUMBLR [UNDER THIS LINK.](http://tellmethisisnotlove.tumblr.com/post/111804525969/always-in-my-heart-link-to-ao3words-37-965)

Also, your feeedback and comments make my heart melt, don't be afraid to share.

Thank you for reading it!

 

 

Gabi


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